


roll here in my ashes

by uhjpg



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Evil/Dark Batfam AU, Happy Ending But It Depends What Side Youre On, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Control, Stockholm Syndrome, Superpowers, body manipulation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2020-04-24 07:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19168186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhjpg/pseuds/uhjpg
Summary: Gotham has a way of creating monsters. Monsters that show their true colors at the drop of the hat are more common, that's what the people expect from Gotham; The Joker, Poison Ivy, The Riddler. They do what they do because they want to and the bystanders know that. But Gotham also carves out ones that are cunning and scheming, who wait until the time is right to reveal themselves. Ones that play mind games, ones that lie and pretend to be something they are not so that the public to fall in love with them, just for them to rip it all away.The Waynes are an elusive billionaire family who have been traveling abroad for years but are finally coming home to Gotham. Of course, many people are thrilled to have the richest family in Gotham back, but little do they know that they're coming back with a vengeance, with only two main goals in sight;-Make sure the public adores and worships them-Destroy the hero communityPiece of cake, right ?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okayyy yeah so there's some violence and stuff in this chapter I tagged everything I could think of but if you want me to tag something, just let me know :)

 

_ Chapter One _

 

_ December 26th, 1993 _

_ Gotham City; Crime Alley _

_ 10:45 P.M. _

 

_ The dim golden light reflects nicely against the dark surfaces that swirl around him, leading his eyes up higher and higher until he’s craning his neck towards the sky, eyes glued to the tips of the skyscrapers. Next to him, his parents laugh at a joke that had fallen on deaf ears on his part, and he feels them lean over him to steal a kiss while he was occupied. He wrinkles his nose. Gross. _

 

_ “Bruce.” His mother’s soft voice calls to him as she places a dainty hand on his left shoulder and he shifts his focus to her, looking at her curiously. _

 

_ “Yes, Mom?” His stormy blue-grey eyes meet her amber ones and he takes a moment to take in her appearance. Her honey-colored hair, her amber eyes, her peony pink lips, her shimmering pearls; his mother is beautiful, he thinks to himself. Which means he has to keep her safe. Mother always told him that it was their job to preserve beauty. Of course, he had a suspicion that she had been talking about nature, but he decided at that moment that she was the most important thing.  _

 

_ He blinks twice. “Sorry mom, what did you say?” _

 

_ She laughs and points at the window of a dimly lit shop where an elf was doing a funny, mechanical dance. He watches it curiously, each jerky twist and turn and each automatic twirl, as it continues on as if stuck in time.  _

 

_ He can’t help but feel sad for the elf, it would live its entire life doing the same movements nonstop until it would eventually burn out and drop, only to be thoughtlessly discarded in a garbage disposal.  _

 

_ The elf turns and its button eyes look directly at Bruce and he looks away, frowning.  _

 

_ His father picks up on his discomfort and gently places his own hand on him, his strong fingers squeezing his shoulder lightly. “It’s getting late, we should get going.” His eyes twinkle, and Bruce smiles up at him. Their eyes were the same, and Bruce can’t help but hope that his eyes have that same twinkle in them when he smiles. _

 

_ “I know a shortcut.” His father smiles slyly and grabs Bruce and tosses him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Bruce shrieks with laughter, and he can see his mom shake her head with a fond expression as she follows them down the alleyway. _

 

_ About halfway down the alley, Bruce insists that his dad put him down because he would be nine soon and nine-year-olds were big enough to be able to walk around without their parents trying to carry them. His dad laughs but agrees, placing him down gently between him and his mother. _

 

_ When Bruce’s feet hit the ground, he frowns and wiggles his toes in his shoes. He feels a great amount of anticipation and anxiety, but it doesn’t feel like his emotions. He shakes his head and walks with his parents, dragging his feet lightly against the cracked asphalt.  _

 

_ He stares down at the ground, observing the bright green weeds poking out from the cracks and straining towards the nonexistent sunlight. _

 

_ His gut squeezes even tighter and he blinks rapidly, trying to clear his head but the feeling just gets stronger and he stops entirely. He stops so abruptly that his parents walk a few more steps before they realize he had stopped. _

 

_ His mother turns around, concern etched onto her face. “Bruce? What’s wrong honey?” _

 

_ “We need to go back.” His own voice sounds shaky to his ears and he mentally kicks himself for not sounding braver. _

 

_ His father frowns. “Our car is parked just around the corner, it would take way more time to go back and walk around all those buildings.” He pauses, “It’s okay if you’re scared.” _

 

_ “I’m not scared.” Snaps Bruce, jolting back. _

 

_ His mother sends his father a look he doesn’t quite understand and hurries over to Bruce and grabs both of his hands and bends slightly to look him in the eyes. "Honey? What's wrong?" _

 

_ His heart is beating faster and faster and his chest is starting to clench up. There's a cold sweat that's slowly trickling down his back and his hands are starting to quiver. He shakes his head, unable to find his voice but tries to pull his mother back towards the way they had come. _

 

_ He only succeeds in pulling out of her grasp. _

 

_ "Bruce." Her voice was firmer now like she's trying to ground him but he can barely hear her. He feels like he's miles away looking down at his own body, feeling emotions that weren't his. His vision blurs and his entire body begins to shake. They shouldn't be here. Something bad was gonna happen if they got any closer to that corner. _

 

_ When he realizes his parents won't budge, he desperately tries to convey his own fear to them, mentally trying to show them how he felt; his hammering heartbeat, his nausea, his sense of anticipation. _

 

_ What he didn't expect was for it to work.  _

 

_ His mother stills for a moment, fingers stopping millimeters from Bruce's, the tips of her fingers barely tracing his own. She frowns hesitantly and looks back at Bruce's father. _

 

_ "Maybe we should go back, just in case. " _

 

_ His father hesitates for a moment and Bruce can see Bruce's own fear written clearly on his father's face and for a moment he lets himself hope that it would be enough; that his father would agree and they'd go the other way and they'd be safe.  _

 

_ But then his father's expression hardens and he shakes his head, exasperation written all over his features. "The car is literally less than ten feet away, and Alfred is waiting for us. There's literally no reason to waste anymore time." His expression softens when he looks at Bruce. "C'mon, what's the worst that can happen?" _

 

_ His mother wraps her fingers around Bruce's hand and presses a soft kiss onto his head before leading him back to his father and they continue walking towards the corner. _

 

_ He eyes the corner with terror, taking in the object of his discomfort. It was an old building, with darkened bricks that were beginning to crumble ever so slightly and with thick ivy wrapping its way around whatever crevice it could wiggle its way into.  _

 

_ Bruce feels an even sharper sense of anticipation and fear and he begins to protest, but a warning look from his father makes his words die in his throat before he can even say them. _

 

_ 'What's the worst that can happen?' His father's words hammer loudly through his brain like a fire alarm and he feels his gut wrench. So, so much could go wrong. _

 

_ They round the corner and a large, burly man steps out in front of them; silver gun pointed directly at them, glinting in the pale moonlight.  _

 

_ Bruce's father immediately jumps in front of him and his mother, but not before Bruce sees. He doesn't see his face, it was covered by a thick black mask, but he sees the man's emotions; what he had thought were his own emotions. _

 

_ The man was anxious about encountering them. What if they fought back and he got caught? His anticipation had weathered away as he confronted them, and confidence and rage took over. _

 

_ Bruce has to bite his lip to keep from screaming. He felt his rage. He bites longer and harder until he feels a hot, sticky, coppery liquid ooze down his lip and to his chin. He still doesn't let up, and he begins shaking from the effort of keeping the man's rage inside of himself. _

 

_ His mother mistakes his shaking for fear and wraps her arms around him, trying to comfort him, and it takes all his self-control not to shove her off.  _

 

_ "Give me your wallets." The man's voice is deep and hoarse, and it echoes off the walls of the crumbling buildings. _

 

_ Bruce's father and mother both remove their belongings and hand them over in complience,  and the man snatches them from their outstretched arms. _

 

_ Bruce's parents seem to think that that was it, he'd take their money and leave but Bruce knows better. He knows exactly what the man is going to do. _

 

_ Before he can open his mouth to warn his parents, the man is waving the gun at their faces, screaming at them.  _

 

_ The gun moves erratically and the glint keeps shining in Bruce's eyes.  _

 

_ He squints, trying to see his parents for what he knows would be the last time. He knows he should feel sad, panicked, scared but all he can feel are the man's emotions; he's drowning in them. _

 

_ The man's eyes fall onto Bruce's mother's neck and demands that she gives him his pearls. _

 

_ She puts her hands behind her neck and begins to take them off, but doesn't move fast enough. _

 

_ The man loses patience, and he lets the gun go off, once, twice. _

 

_ Bruce watches in frozen horror as the man's emotions finally fade away and he feels his own parents' emotions draining away along with their lifeforce. _

 

_ He feels their fear, their shock, their worry for Bruce, their horror. He feels all of it, and he sees it all in slow motion. _

 

_ His father falls first, a large hole in his chest, bright red ooze trickling down his torso and pooling around his frozen body. His eyes are wide open, and they have a glazed, shiny appearance to them. He seems frozen in time, and Bruce feels like he's frozen as well. _

 

_ Until his mother also falls, next to his father, thick splatters of blood adorning her neck as the hole in her upper chest gushes out the thick liquid. Her eyes are shut and her entire face is stained dark red. _

 

_ The bullet had also broken her pearl necklace, and the red strained pearls bounced up and down on the asphalt from the impact, staining everything they touched. _

 

_ They move in slow motion, and Bruce can feel his own tears start to slowly travel down his own face with agonizing slowness. First, a trickle, but then the floodgates crack from the pressure and he breaks down, dropping to his knees and grabbing his mother's shoulders and shaking her, trying to get her to wake up. _

 

_ Her body moves limply, and her head rolls over from the force of his shaking. _

 

_ He knows she won't wake up, but it doesn't hurt to try. Doesn't hurt to pretend that she's still alive for a little bit longer. _

 

_ Bruce stares at her long and hard, trying to wake her up with the sheer force of his willpower, but she was gone. _

 

_ They were gone. _

 

_ They were gone forever. _

 

_ Head jerking up, he makes eye contact with the man who had murdered his parents in cold blood. _

 

_ He had chosen to stay; he was amused by Bruce's emotions, Bruce realizes. _

 

_ Bruce stands up mechanically and looks up at the man, who grins at him through his mask and swings the gun around in his left hand before casually taking off his mask. He didn't care that his face was visible. He enjoyed doing this. _

 

_ Bruce grits his teeth. _

 

_ He squeezes his eyes shut as something dark swirls around his mind and he shudders as it wraps around harder and tighter until he feels a definitive snap and his body jerks. _

 

_ When he opens his eyes again, they're not a light stormy blue anymore. They're pure black. He grins up at the man, clenching his teeth until he can hear them grinding together clear as day. _

 

_ The man found his emotions amusing, but how would he find them when he was the one experiencing them? _

 

_ His eyes glow brighter and the man begins to cry. He cries harder and harder until he collapses to the ground, shaking but Bruce still doesn't let up. He pours every bit of emotion he was feeling into the man. _

 

_ The man would not be able to take it, but he doesn't care. _

 

_ The man slowly sits up, face jaded in sorrow and slowly turns the gun towards his own head. With a shaking hand he grabs the trigger and with one last shaky breath, pulls the trigger. _

 

_ There's a loud thud as the body topples over and a large red stain that was left on the wall behind him. _

 

_ With one final kick to the man's torso, Bruce's eyes stop glowing and he returns to his parents' side, silently keeping vigil. _

 

_ When the paramedics and police officers arrive, they find three bodies doused in crimson blood and one stoic little boy with dark stormy eyes and a bloodied mouth, sitting motionless as the newly formed rain begins to pour around him. _

 

_ ~ _

 

June 16th, 2019

Gotham City; Wayne Tower

1:08 P.M.

 

The thick crowd's chatter increases in volume just as the atmosphere of anticipation increases as well. The crowd is littered with color, resembling a watercolor painting in the sweltering June heat, all waiting impatiently for the persons of interest to arrive. 

 

The Waynes.

 

The family of nine, including the butler, had been overseas for years, avoiding the paparazzi and keeping a low profile. Nobody knew anything about them; some people had even begun to speculate that they didn’t even exist, that they were just another one of the cheap, see-through conspiracy theories the media made up for views.

 

And then a rare photo would end up in circulation, a blurry photo of parts of their family. A hazy picture of thick red hair focused on intense green eyes and a sea of freckles. A shaky shot of the two youngest Wayne boys, hoodies obscuring their faces, save for tufts of raven hair. A bleary image of black waves framing neon blue eyes and a partially hidden smirk.

Small, insignificant prints that would churn up weeks and months worth of gossip and scandals, but the Waynes never addressed the speculations. They’d just vanish once more like they had never been there in the first place.

 

It was a thrilling chase, a riveting mystery that many people enjoyed trying to solve. Everything is much more exhilarating when it’s out of reach when it’s not real. There’s a reason people like books and movies so much, they get to watch things occur from afar, safe from all harm.

 

But then the tabloids would remind them that they were real and that the tragedies were real and not some made up fairytale that children read in their storybooks. 

 

_ “The Twenty-Fifth Anniversary of the Murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne” _ the papers had read that December.  _ “Remembering the Grayson’s Tragedy; Year 12.”  _ Is what they had said last year in July. The papers would remind the world of the tragedies the Wayne family had gone through mercilessly as if trying to relive the moment that it had happened.

 

The Waynes never reacted to these specials; they never broke their silence and people had stopped wondering if they ever would.

 

As a result, when the Wayne family announced that they were permanently moving back into Wayne Manor and that they would hold a press conference on June 16th at exactly 1:15 P.M., everyone flocked to Wayne Tower in hopes of getting a glimpse of the elusive family, and get a little more insight on them. 

 

Vicki Vale taps at her microphone before turning to her cameraman impatiently. “Is everything working?”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.” The intern says, clearly not understanding, or caring, about the importance of the event.

 

Her eyes roll back into her head and a small scowl crosses her face. She didn’t see why her boss thought letting an  _ intern  _ work behind the camera for such an important event was a good idea, but just shakes her head lightly. She could yell at her boss later. For now, she had to focus on the story.

 

From the corner of her eye, she spots a splash of red and she suppresses a groan; Iris West.

 

“Why can’t she just stick to Central City.” She mutters to herself while messing with her microphone once more, ensuring that it’ll be ready to go whenever the Wayne’s make an appearance.

 

“Vicki!” She turns her head towards the voice and spots Lois Lane hurrying towards her.

 

“Great. Metropolis is here too. Just what I need.” She mutters to herself before plastering a smile onto her face as Lois and Cat Grant, who was with her, walk up to her. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. It’s, she checks her watch, 1:09 and the Waynes were scheduled to make an appearance in six minutes. It was not the time for chatting.

 

Lois and Cat apparently don’t seem worried that they’ll miss the big entrance as they stop in front of her and offer an enthusiastic hello.

 

They had met at a convention earlier, and both Lois and Cat had decided that they’d befriend her even if it meant they had to sell their left kidneys to do it, much to her chagrin. 

 

“Hey, Vicki! How’ve you been?” Lois asks cheerily while Cat grins brightly at her before taking a sip of her iced coffee.

 

“Oh, you know. I’ve been.” She answers tersely, trying to nonchalantly peek over Lois’ head, searching for any sign of the Wayne family. 

 

Lois lets out a laugh. “Vickie, don’t worry. The press conference got pushed back to 1:45. Something about jetlag and one of the kids refusing to get out of bed. Which is totally understandable, they got back from Tokyo this morning.”

 

That catches Vicki’s attention and she finally decides to give Lois her full attention. “How did you know that?”

 

Lois shrugs casually and Cat butts into the conversation. 

 

“Superman told her! She had an interview with him earlier this morning and he mentioned seeing them arrive while he was flying back to Metropolis after a League mission. It’s really not surprising that it would take  _ Superman  _ to spot that family, given their rep.” She finishes with a laugh, before going back to her iced coffee, which looked way too watered down for Vicki’s taste.

 

“You got an interview with Superman?” She asks in disbelief, unconsciously fussing with her mic once more.

 

“Yeah.” Lois looks slightly bashful, and Vicki raises an eyebrow.

 

Before she has a chance to comment on the fact that Lois obviously has a crush on Superman, they hear a loud bang, followed by a long string of apologies and they turn to see Clark Kent helping some red-haired kid pick up his equipment.

 

Cat smothers her laugh into her drink and Lois facepalms and sighs loudly. “He’s such an idiot.”

 

“Which one?” Mutters Vicki, eyeing the redhead who didn’t seem to know which side of the camera the lense went into. 

 

“Smallville,” Lois answers with a hum. “Jimmy’s good, he’s just a bit nervous. We should go help them, Cat. It’s almost 1:40.” She turns to Vicki and smiles. “It was nice seeing you again, we should hang out sometime.”

 

“Yeah, that’d be fun,” Vicki answers absentmindedly, eyeing the stage.

 

Lois laughs and grabs Cat’s hand, pulling her towards the two struggling men. Vicki watches them go with a critical eye, before turning back to the stage. She wouldn’t be missing the entry to one of the biggest stories of the year, thank you very much. She looks down at her watch again, mentally cursing herself for wearing the golden one. It clashed too much with the purple dress she was wearing. She lets out an exasperated sigh. No use worrying about that now, it was 1:43 which meant they would be out soon.

 

“Start the camera.” She instructs the intern, who dutifully presses the ‘Record” button and sends Vicki a thumbs up.

 

Vicki smiles brightly into the camera and begins introducing herself and the story. “-And now the Waynes should be arriving any minute now,” She gestures to the empty stage behind her. Her eyes flit to her left and she can see other reporters also speaking into their cameras. 

 

Eyes back to her own camera, she smiles once more, before launching into more detail. “Of course, nobody blames them for being late, a little jetlag can slow anybody down, even if you’re a billionaire.” She laughs lightly to herself before continuing. “A source told me that they were seen entering Gotham International Airport early this morning so it’s safe to say they’ve already had a pretty exhausting day.” She feels slightly bad for using Lois’ scoop, but Lois got to say  _ Superman  _ told her, so she doesn’t feel too bad about it. After all, she had to say something, she’s already on air and she can’t just stare idly at the camera.

 

Suddenly there’s a loud shout and she whips her head to catch a glimpse of the Waynes, before turning back to ensure that the intern, Andrew, she should really start using his name, was catching it all on film. Thankfully for the both of them, he was. 

 

“The Waynes have finally arrived, and are looking as sharp as ever.” she comments, and tells Andrew to zoom in for “A closer look.”

 

First, there was the father, Bruce Wayne. Billionaire. Playboy. Philanthropist. Unfairly hot. Standing at 6’1 ½, with stormy blue eyes and perfect black hair, he was the perfect image of a rich billionaire father. It was honestly unfair. 

 

On his right stood his first child, Richard “Dick” Grayson. Vicki had never thought she’d meet anyone who would willingly go by that name, but somehow, looking at him, it makes perfect sense. He wasn’t too tall, only about 5’10, but he was definitely stunning as hell, with his tanned skin, neon blue eyes, wavy black hair that framed his face perfectly, and his blinding smile...yeah. If  _ anyone  _ would go by “Dick” it would be Dick Grayson. 

 

To Bruce’s left was his oldest child, Barbara Gordon. With an abundance of thick red hair, bright green eyes, freckles, and a kind face, it was easy to see why she was so likable. Of course, just like the other Waynes, there were all kinds of rumors about her, like how she was the illegitimate child of Commissioner James Gordon and the criminal Barbara Kean. Many people thought it was far fetched, but Vicki could see it. Hell, even her last name was  _ Gordon,  _ but there was no proof. Just conspiracies. Next to her was the second Wayne boy, Jason Todd. He towered over both Barbara and Dick and he definitely appeared far more menacing, but with his pine green eyes, lightly freckled face, black hair with white bangs, and a small smirk twisted onto his lips, he doesn’t seem too bad. ‘He was probably a mama’s boy’, Vicki thinks to herself with a smile, before shifting to the other family members.

 

‘Why does he have so many kids?’ she mentally groans, as she turns to introduce his other kids to the people watching her in their homes. ‘Like, this man’s obsession with adopting kids is slightly out of control if you ask me.’

 

Next up were Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown, who seemed to be glued to one another. Cassandra was the shorter of the two, with short black hair and lovely brown eyes while Stephanie was blonde with thick blonde hair and light blue eyes. Then came the two youngest Wayne members, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne, who stood next to Dick. Tim was a bit taller, with black hair and blue eyes, and Damian had black hair and green eyes. Both looked very unhappy with attending the press conference but still managed to look like they were fine with whatever was going on at the same time. 

 

“And  _ that _ , everyone, was the Wayne family.” She finishes with a smile, slightly out of breath and just in time for Bruce Wayne to start his speech. She gratefully allows the camera to be taken off of her and focused on the man on the stage. 

 

-

 

June 16th, 2019

Gotham City; Wayne Tower

2:03 P.M.

 

Dick adjusts the right cuff on his suit, waiting impatiently for Bruce to start his speech. Of course, he doesn’t show that he’s impatient and bored out of his mind, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’d rather be in a meat grinder right now. To the public, he looks like the perfect son, smiling politely at them and standing perfectly still while watching his father with interest. Impressions were important and Dick’s spent enough time in showbiz to know how to act to get people to adore you. And that is what is important; getting people to love you. If the masses love you, and you don’t really do anything morally wrong (or at least there’s no proof that you did it), you’re basically untouchable.  

 

And for what they’re planning to do, they’re gonna  _ need  _ untouchable.

 

Damian shifts his position ever so slightly, glancing up at Dick and their eyes meet. Damian’s eyes harden for a few seconds, mentally trying to convey his displeasure at Dick, who picks up on it just fine. He smiles back, and Damian also smiles, but Dick knows it’s just a fake smile that he’s keeping on for the sole purpose of looking presentable. 

 

_ “Can we all please agree to go get ice cream or something after this? It’s so hot I’m gonna die. And this suit isn’t helping one bit.”  _

 

Tim’s voice fills his head and he has bite his lip to keep from laughing. 

 

_ “I think we should get smoothies instead.” _ Babs chimes into the mindlink, while her eyes are still trained on Bruce and a polite smile is frozen on her face.

 

_ “I thought you were supposed to be making sure we pay attention, Babs.”  _ Jason’s amused tone floats through their head and Dick watches her expression crack into a smile for a split second before it smooths back up into its normal polite expression.

 

_ “Everything Bruce is saying is just a way to keep the people eating out of our hands, Jay. It’s capitalist bullshit.” _

 

_ “Oh, here we go again.”  _ Dick can feel Steph’s eyeroll as she projects her thoughts out so they can hear them.

 

“-And so now we’re back, and here for the public.” Bruce’s voice cuts through the mindlink and they all snapped back to attention, listening intently to what he was going to say.

 

“And for this reason, we’ve created the Wayne Public Benefits Fund, which is for the public; any of the damage resulting from the crimes committed by this city’s super-criminals will be completely covered by Wayne Enterprises. Thank you.”

 

He steps back from the podium the same time the audience erupts into applause and reporters begin to hammer him with questions.

 

As Bruce begins to answer each of their questions, Dick’s mouth twitches upwards in amusement. The public was so easy to manipulate, like a puppet on a string. 

 

-

 

June 17th, 2019

Gotham City; Diamond District

2:34 A.M.

 

“Remind me again why we’re breaking into the Iceberg Lounge?” Red Robin’s sardonic tone floats towards Nightwing’s ears and he glares down at him.

 

_ “No talking outside the mind link, And you know why. Gotta disrupt the flow. Loosen Penguin’s grasp on the area. Make him weaker and whatnot”  _ Nightwing waves his hand around for extra effect, before glancing at Red Robin once more to ensure that he understood him.

 

Red Robin frowns. _ “And we’re doing that by trashing his club?” _

 

Red Hood rolls his eyes. _“Have you_ _been asleep for the past hour? Batman, Oracle, and Orphan are at the docks destroying his incoming shipments. Spoiler and Robin are tracking his partners in the Narrows. We’re trashing his club_ because _it’s a huge revenue source for him.”_ He snaps into the mindlink, before finishing picking the lock and slipping inside through the now open window. Nightwing and Red Robin follow soundlessly, making their way across the club’s floor.

 

Nightwing stops and looks at his reflection in the glass.  _ “Does this bomber jacket look good with my complexion? My last one ripped so I had to get a replacement, but I think the color’s off.”  _ He looks down at the light blue color, frowning.

 

Red Hood throws something at his head and he ducks out of the way. The object flies through the window, shattering it.

 

The three of them look down at the glistening shards of glass in silence before alarms start to blare and they jump into action, running around and destroying whatever they could get their hands on.

 

Red Hood grabs a tank of gas and tips it over behind the cash register before he lights it on fire and scampers off and grabs all the loose pieces of floating cash and stuffs them into his red leather jacket.

 

_ “Dude...we’re billionaires. You don’t need to pick up every spare piece of change you see.” _

 

_ “Fuck you, Replacement. I just got over 2k in less than four seconds.” _

 

_ “Again, I ask why?” _

 

_ “Because I like having more money than you, that’s why.” _

 

Nightwing rolls his eyes and stares at the rising flames. It’s getting hotter and hotter by the second and they need to get out soon before the entire place gets engulfed in flames.

 

_ “Guys we gotta go before we all turn a lovely shade of ash.” _

 

He hears sirens getting closer and he screws his eyes shut for a moment, trying to regain control of his irritation. When he opens his eyes, Hood and Red Robin are still arguing and the place is a bright yellow in color. The flames are licking up everything they can get their hands on and soon the three of them would be all that’s left to devour.

 

_ “Guys…”  _ Nightwing points at the fire and the two of them finally follow them outside, only to be met with a group of eight policemen surrounding them. 

 

Nightwing’s lips stretch over his teeth in a humorless grin. This was going to be  _ fun. _

 

“Hands up.” Snaps one of the police officers, aiming his gun at them.

 

_ “Red Robin?”  _ Nightwing asks, waiting for him to finish mentally scanning them.

 

_ “Yeah, they’re here to kill us. They’re not gonna accept our surrender. Not that we were gonna anyways.”   _ He reports casually, twirling his own katana. 

 

Nightwing looks at Red Robin’s glowing maroon eyes and then at Red Hood’s glowing green ones. His own eyes are also entirely a color, blue. 

 

_ “Hm. No point pretending we’re not metahumans then. That’s the sucky part about having such obvious abilities.”  _ He pauses.  _ “At least it looks cool.” _

 

_ “We can hear you.” _

 

Nightwing casually takes out his katana, swinging it back and forth, waiting for the police to react. He feels the main police officer, the one who had spoken to them, shift his aim towards Red Hood, who had summoned his All Blades. He was going to press the trigger, Nightwing could feel him moving his muscles to do so.  

 

Nightwing mouth arches downwards in a snarl and his eyes glow a bit brighter as his own fingers tighten up and he reaches out, taking control of the policeman closest to him. 

 

The man gasps in distress, having lost control of his body, and tries to fight back. Nightwing digs deeper until he could feel every nerve and every muscle and forces the man to move. The movement is jerky and unnatural, and the man is in a lot of pain but Nightwing keeps forcing him forwards. One foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right. Like a puppet, the man was  _ his  _ to control, and just as the other officer pulls the trigger, Nightwing forces the man to jump in front of the gun, and the bullet enters his skull, piercing through his scalp, skull, and brain. 

 

The man immediately dies but remains standing until Nightwing lets go of his body and then crumples at the other officer’s feet, blood pooling around him and staining the ground red. The officer who pulled the trigger jumps back and drops his gun in shock and Nightwing lets out a humorless laugh. 

 

_ “Hood? Would you do the honors?” _

 

Red Hood grins and snaps his fingers. Immediately, the men drop to the ground, paralyzed and he brandishes his swords.  _ “This is gonna be  _ fun _.”  _ He pauses for a second and then  _ “Thanks for the gun  assist, Boy Blunder.” _

 

Nightwing grins, waving his hand dismissively.  _ “What’s family for?”  _ before grabbing the nearest man and slicing his throat, feeling the life drain out of him while the blood drips to the asphalt below.

 

-

 

June 17th, 2019

Gotham City; Diamond District

3:02 A.M.

 

The rest of the squad cars pull up in front of the Iceberg Lounge, and the backup officers jump out, guns raised. Slowly, they make their way to the shattered window, only to freeze in their tracks.

 

On the ground lay eight policemen, each staring lifelessly up at the starless sky with their necks slit, their blood pooling around them and dripping down the drain. The living officers back up, picking their feet off the bloodied ground so that they don’t destroy any of the evidence.

 

The sirens are still blaring, but none of them seem to hear them, staring down at their fallen coworkers in pure terror.

 

One of the police officers finally shakes off her shock and dials a number on her phone. “Yes? I need to call something in.” She looks down at the lifeless bodies, their limbs hanging limply in strangle, inhuman angles and shudders. All their eyes were open, staring directly above them, their faces were frozen with fear, even in death.

 

Above them, hidden in the thick trees were three pairs of glowing eyes, staring down. They blink twice in unison and then they disappear. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ch 2!!!!!!!!1  
> okay so some of the characters may seem a bit ooc (like damian) but its cuz i wanted them to be closer as a family and care about each other a bit more than they actually do in canon lol (like for example damian calls bruce 'baba' instead of Father and yeah lol little stuff like that.
> 
> also this has Not been proofread so. of there's anything weird its cuz i was too lazy to edit it lmao sorry
> 
> also for the plot's sake the justice league roster is wayy smaller so yay ig lmao

_ Chapter Two _

 

_ April 1st, 2008 _

_ Gotham City; Old Gotham _

 

_ The bright sunlight streamed through the light green curtains, and the wind that blew through the open window made the curtains dance to a tune that no human could understand. _

 

_ Barbara was sure that faeries could though and was in the middle of a heated argument with her dad over the fact that if magic existed, and of course it did, then things like doing long division without the help of a calculator or writing a five paragraph essay on what she was gonna do during spring break were utterly useless. _

 

_ "Faeries don't need math or English, dad. They're not tied to the same capitalist system that we're all slaves to." She argues, pushing her math book away from her. _

 

_ Jim Gordon massages his temples, praying to whatever was out there for a way to explain to his child that yes, this all may seem pointless now but in about ten to twelve years you're gonna need to be able to survive on your own, and no amount of believing in magic and magical creatures were going to help you out of a rough spot. _

 

_ 'Trust me,' he thinks to himself wrly, 'if it were possible, I'd run off and live with a bunch of leprechauns too.' _

 

_ Barbara is still boycotting her work, and he eyes his 11 year old in dismay. _

 

_ It was one thing to not want to do homework, but comparing their lives as being enslaved by capitalism (not that that wasn't technically true) was a whole other ballpark. _

 

_ Speaking of ballparks… _

 

_ "Here's the deal, Babs. The game starts in five minutes, so I'm gonna go watch it now. If, and only if, you're done by the time the game ends, we'll go faery hunting in the park afterward." _

 

_ Barbara eyes him suspiciously. "I thought you said that they don't exist." She says in an accusatory tone. _

 

_ He falters for a second but then fires back with "I was just testing your trust, Babs. You know what they say, to keep faeries alive you gotta believe in 'em. Faith, trust, and pixie dust and all that." _

 

_ "I'm eleven, dad. I know faeries don't actually exist. I'm just using my imagination as a way to cope with the feeling of impending doom that I get when I think about my life." Barbara tells him in a matter-of-fact tone as she reaches for her green and purple notebook. _

 

_ Jim's smile gets a little bit more strained. 'Why couldn't I have a normal 11 year old? Couldn't she wait until she was a teenager to start having existential crises?' _

 

_ He taps on the table twice and pushes himself off of the table. "Do your homework and we'll work on getting you more imaginary emotional support faeries."  _

 

_ All he gets is a shrug from her as she begins scribbling away at the journal. _

 

_ "Don't open the door for anyone!" He hollers as he makes his way to the living room and flips on the TV. _

 

_ "Don't open the door for anyone." She repeats under her breath in a high pitched voice. "Please. If I was that stupid we'd all be in a lot of trouble." She rolls her eyes as she thinks back on how her dad had fallen asleep while making spaghetti and nearly set the house on fire. If she hadn't been there, their whole apartment would probably have been toast. Literally. _

 

_ Or maybe not literally, since toast is made out of bread, and their apartment is most definitely not made out of bread. At least she thinks so. She remembers that video of someone fixing their sink with ramen Mr. Bullock had shown her while trying to babysit her for her dad. _

 

_ He hadn't been very good at it, but at least he let her use the computer. _

 

_ Dad never let her use it. Of course, maybe if she didn't spend so long trying to hack into her school's database he'd let her, but that's a whole other story altogether. _

 

_ She frowns as she looks down at the next problem.  _

 

_ 'It costs $100 to rent the skating rink plus $5 per person. Write an expression to find the cost for any number (n) of people. What is the cost for 25 people?' _

 

_ Ridiculously below her abilities. Maybe she should talk to dad and ask him to tell the school to put her in a higher math.  _

 

_ She clicks her purple mechanical pencil twice, waiting for more lead to come out. Then three more times, and then four. Nothing comes out and she rolls her eyes and pushes her chair out and scrambles off of it and walks over to one of the kitchen drawers where the writing utensils were stored. _

 

_ Throwing it opens, she rummages through the drawer, looking for the spare lead. _

 

_ "No...that's a pen, another pen, gel pen, broken pencil…" She mutters to herself, fingertips feeling around for the thin plastic case that held the lead in it. Her eyes focus on something that's glinting from the glare of the kitchen lights and she grabs at it triumphantly. _

 

_ Pulling it out, she's disappointed to see that it's just the silver pin her father had gotten at an award ceremony last year and had carelessly discarded it without a second thought. _

 

_ Her mouth arches downwards and she eyes her father's silhouette in the living room with mild annoyance. Or where she thought his silhouette would be. _

 

_ She closes the drawer softly and pads towards the living room, peeking from the corner of the wall where the couch was. _

 

_ It was empty. _

 

_ She frowns. _

 

_ "Dad?" She calls out, stilling as she waits for a response. There was none.  _

 

_ Her lip trembles slightly, but she ignores it. He was probably in the bathroom and couldn't hear her. She'd go check. _

 

_ Just as she was about to walk to the bathroom down the hall, she hears the lock 'click' and the door to their apartment drag open and she goes to investigate without a second thought. _

 

_ Dad had probably just gone out for a bit and forgot to tell her, she reasons to herself.  _

 

_ Rounding the corner she runs towards the door, ready to chastise her dad for leaving without telling her. _

 

_ "Dad! Where'd you g-" she falters and skids to a stop mere feet away from the man standing in front of her, a sick, twisted grin on his pale face. _

 

_ She takes a step back while a shaky breath escapes her clamped lips and the man takes a step forward, teeth glinting from the reflection of the lights above. _

 

_ She opens her mouth to call for her father, but the man holds up a sleek black gun and points it at her. _

 

_ "Now, there's no need for an uninvited audience," he tells her in a sleazy, shallow voice. "This is a one on one act, and you are the VIP!" He laughs and she can't help but shudder. _

 

_ His laugh didn't spread cheer. It didn't make her want to smile and join in; it did the opposite. It spread the panic in her chest throughout her body, making her want to run and hide underneath her bed covers. _

 

_ She glances back towards her room, and then back at the barrel of the gun that was pointed at her, wondering if she could make it. Probably not. He'd probably shoot her before she could even turn around.  _

 

_ She hears the gun click and the panic suddenly slams into her, and she realizes something; she doesn't want to die. _

 

_ She begins shaking violently, and the man looks down at her like he's enjoying her fear. He probably is. _

 

_ Her panic is replaced by anger. Hot, seething anger that curls around her chest and begins to expand until she feels like she's burning up. _

 

_ It gets so hot that she briefly wonders if she's glowing and when she sees herself in the reflection of the glass behind the man, her eyes  _ are _ glowing a lime green. _

 

_ If this had happened a week ago, she wouldn't know what to do with it, but now? She knows exactly what to do. The same time she hears the gun go off and feels it embed itself in her leg, she lets her rage take over. _

 

_ She picks a situation from her brain and forces it into the man's own. It's one of the wonderful fantasies, she'd spent years perfecting the characters' characterization and the flowing plots.  _

 

_ In this specific fantasy, the main character is alone in a post apocalyptic world. They're going crazy from being alone for so many years and they're approaching their finale, going over the edge of the cliff and ending their miserable life once and for all. _

 

_ And now that's what the Joker is experiencing; He's the character here and he's the one going over the cliff.  _

 

_ The man's face stiffens up, like he's trying to resist and she intensifies the hallucination, using her sheer anger to power it and the man's face goes slack as he mechanically goes towards the nearest window and smashes it open, the glass shards cutting into his skin and the blood spatters everywhere, staining the surrounding furniture and jumps down from their five-story apartment. _

 

_ She had fallen to the ground at one point from the pain in the wound in her leg, but she can't remember when it happened, instead, she uses her arms to drag herself to the window. _

 

_ The shards of glass cut into her body, but she keeps going, ignoring the sharp pain that was traveling through her body. _

 

_ Around her, she hears multiple screams and when she finally pulls herself up with the window sill she realizes why; the hallucination she had induced on the Joker had accidentally spread to the surrounding families and now more and more broken bodies littered the street, all resting in strange angles. _

 

_ She stares at them emotionlessly, and her eyes slowly fade back to their normal color. She keeps staring at the bodies below, breathing labored from the pain from her gunshot wound. _

 

_ She hears her dad run in, gasping "I heard a gunshot, what hap-" _

 

_ He stops mid sentence, before running over to her and picking her up while catching sight of what was going on outside and quickly closing the curtains and carries his daughter to the couch and lays her down, talking to her quietly as he dials 911. _

 

_ "You're gonna be okay, sweetie. Don't worry. I'm so sorry." He keeps repeating over and over again until his words blur together and she can't understand what he's saying anymore. _

 

_ She shifts, face scrunched up in pain and the world slowly fades, the last thing she feels is her dad stroking her hair. _

_ - _

_ She's been in the hospital for three weeks, and even she knows it's a stretch for a gunshot in the leg. She's getting restless, and so is her dad, who's sat by her the entire time. _

 

_ "Can you ask them if we can leave yet, dad?" She whines and he gives her an apologetic smile. _

 

_ "I'm pretty sure that they'll give me the same answer they gave me half an hour ago, sweetie." _

 

_ She rolls her eyes and makes a grabbing gesture towards the notebook that was on the desk next to her and her dad grabs it and hands it to her, which she accepted gratefully. _

 

_ "I'm so bored I'm actually doing my homework without complaining." She tells him, just as a group of people dressed in white come in, followed by her doctor. _

 

_ "Mr. Gordon," the doctor begins and Barbara sits up in her bed, "Barbara here has been exposed to some very traumatic things at a very young age, and we think it's best to send her to the Arkham's Children's Mental Health Hospital for further study." _

 

_ Barbara's mouth drops open the same time her father stands up in protest. _

 

_ "That's just Arkham Asylum! That place is the last place she should be right now!" _

 

_ The doctor frowns hesitantly but shakes his head. "She has to go. Now." _

 

_ Four of the people in white begin to lift her off the bed while another one injects her with something that makes her head feel like cotton and her limbs feel like lead. She tries to struggle, but her eyes are closing, the last thing she sees is her father fighting to get to her while two men hold him back, desperation gleaming in his eyes. _

 

_ - _

 

_ Two months later, Barbara Gordon is pronounced dead. _

 

_ ~ _

 

June 17th, 2019

Gotham City; Wayne Manor 

10:23 A.M.

  
  


One of the Manor's many family rooms are filled with an array of scents, the aromas mixing and wafting throughout the entire first floor of the mansion. The house is sparkling so brightly that you can see your reflection in almost every surface and everything is put away into its designated place.

 

Alfred Pennyworth scoffs fondly.

 

' _ What's the point of having a bloody butler if the employers do all of the work?'  _ He wonders with a small smile as he gracefully steps out of the way of Ace and Titus, the family dogs, as they sprint through the hallway with Alfred the cat hot on their heels and he smothers a chuckle with the back of his hand as he watches the three animals round the corner and disappear.

 

Shaking his head lightly, he makes his way to the main family room and as he gets closer he can hear distinct voices wafting from the half shut doors before he's even close to entering.

 

Of course, with his family, he shouldn't have expected to go unnoticed, and he doesn't. He's about fifteen feet from the doors when a small figure dashes out from the room, the doors groaning loudly in protest as they swing on their old hinges, and throws himself into Alfred's arms.

 

Alfred looks down into his youngest grandson's emerald green eyes and smiles fondly and the boy mirrors his expression, excitement radiating off of his face. 

                                                   (g _ randpa  _ )  _ "جد _ " 

He exclaims in a bright voice, grin stretched from ear to ear. "We have a surprise for you!"

 

"Damian! Don't spoil the surprise." A voice rings out.

 

The rest of his grandchildren had streamed out from out of the room and were also surrounding him, pulling at him gently from all directions while trying to get his attention, all wanting to be the one that showed him the 'surprise'.

 

He smiles at them, it wasn't much of a surprise; for all of their training they could never keep much from him but he lets them think he doesn't know anyways.

 

Finally, Cassandra loses her patience with her siblings and her eyes flash a bright silver and everyone falls silent and they glare at her with pursed lips, waiting for her to give them their voices back. She doesn't, choosing instead to motion to Alfred before grabbing his hand and leading him into the room.

 

In the room was a pitcher of lemonade, a cake, and Bruce in a pink apron and flour powdered on his nose and hair.

 

Cassandra taps his arm to get his attention and he looks down to her, watching her sign.

 

_ Yesterday was Father's day and we missed it, so we all cleaned the house after patrol yesterday and got up early to make the cake for you.  _ She informs him, a small smile on her face as she excitedly points towards the cake.

 

Bruce smiles tiredly at him and Alfred tries not to laugh.

 

"Yeah! And we did something with dad yesterday, so don't worry about stealing the dad-love away from him!" Chimes in Stephanie, the only member of the family who wasn't affected by Cassandra's abilities.

 

Of course, her own ability to force people to say anything and everything she wanted them to could not affect Cassandra either; their powers canceled each other out, much to their annoyance and amusement.

 

Five pairs of hands impatiently poked at Cassandra, trying to get her to release her hold on them.

 

Cassandra shakes her head, eyes still shimmering and Alfred shakes his head softly. She was a stubborn one and probably wouldn't let them out of her grasp until she got bored or one of them managed to get out of her sight.

 

Speaking of sights… he turns back to where Bruce was eyeing them all in amusement, right hand still trying to brush off the stubborn flour that was clinging to his hair.

 

Making his way over to his son, Alfred takes out a crisp handkerchief with small green leaves embroidered on the edges and hands it to Bruce, who takes it gratefully and begins to remove the bits of flour still stuck to him like a leech.

 

The five kids who were temporarily mute glare the ceiling, probably mentally cursing obscenities that Alfred certainly did  _ not  _ allow in his household. He fixates them with a stern glance and their expressions immediately soften and morph into something more sheepish.

 

_ 'Good.'  _ He thinks to himself. They should know better than to use such language.

 

Dick, the most chatty of the five, finally throws up his hands in defeat and walks out the door. Once Cassandra loses sight of him, they hear a loud 'HA' and he waltzes back in, grinning madly.

 

"Hey, Alfred! Okay so they won't admit it but this time  _ I  _ was the one that picked the recipe for the cake. They won't admit it, cuz it actually tastes good-

 

Alfred had noticed a small slice missing from the otherwise pristine cake and a small smile crosses his face as Dick continues.

 

"And apparently I'm ' _ an abomination when it comes to the kitchen'  _ but just know that I found the recipe. Didn't help bake it, cuz Babs and Jay wouldn't let me get within ten feet of the mixing bowl" he turned to glare at the two, "but I  _ did  _ help with the baking this year. Sorta." 

 

Damian, who had followed Dick outside of the room pipes up. "They were going to let you help but then you somehow set the  _ electric stove  _ on  _ fire.  _ By turning up the heat. They sent you out for your own safety. Besides, we didn't even need the stove. We needed the  _ oven." _

 

"Oven, stove; to-may-to, to-mah-to." Dick waves his hand dismissively and Alfred feels his eyebrows crawl higher and higher. Just  _ where  _ did he go wrong with this one? The rest were at least sort of proficient in the kitchen, even Stephanie, though he shuddered at the thought of leaving her there without supervision.

 

Jason was looking at his older brother in horror and he pokes Timothy until the younger rolls his eyes, before flashing a deep maroon and then Jason's voice was echoed through the mindlink.

 

_ "Cass  _ **_please_ ** _ let me talk to this clown I'm  _ **_begging_ ** _ you." _

 

Cassandra's eyes finally die down to their normal dark brown color and everyone's voices are restored back to order.

 

Jason lightly rubs his neck before pouncing on Dick. "Dickface, I'll have you  _ know  _ that-"

 

"Guys. Alfred's day, remember?" Barbara reminds them in a terse voice, arms crossed as she stares both of them down.

 

"Sorry." Both of their voices ring out at once and they look at each other with mirroring grins and Alfred shakes his head slightly. He doesn't know how he's sane. Maybe that was his superpower. Sanity. He laughs lightly before allowing all of his grandchildren to herd him to the nearest chair.

 

-

 

The room was covered in plates with crumbs littering their surfaces and a bunch of foam cups. Alfred mentally thanked Bruce's incentive to insist that they didn't use the glass ones. They would have been shattered in an instant between the seven of the kids.

 

Now they were all watching a movie, eyes intently focused on the screen.

 

They all looked rather ridiculous; they had insisted that they all do face masks and now their faces were all sorts of bright colors.

 

But Alfred couldn't judge since his face was plastered with a pink 'rejuvenating cherry blossom blend' of sorts.

 

Bruce looks at him from behind his black charcoal mask and cracks a grin (and cracks the mask in the process, might Alfred add) at him before turning back to where the kids were overlapping each other, legs and arms thrown over one another as they stare up at the large TV.

 

He's not sure what it's about, he wasn't paying attention because he was busy observing his family, but he's happy they are all enjoying themselves. God knows they deserve it.

 

Cassandra notices him looking and turns to smile at him, light yellow mask gleaming faintly, and Alfred smiles back, careful not to disrupt his own mask.

 

Stephanie, whose arm had been draped around Cassandra's shoulders, looks back to see what she had been looking at and her own light green colored face smiles up at him. Then Timothy, who had been next to her looks back and the rest follow in suit until he has a full rainbow of faces peeking at him from behind smiles.

 

He hears the slightest  _ click!  _ of a camera and he looks behind him to see Bruce looking at the camera with a grin. "Oh yeah. I'm printing this one out and hanging it in every single room."

 

Dick protests loudly, claiming he 'can't be seen like that' and a few of the others also join in on the complaining, but it's lighthearted and Alfred knows that they don't really mind and Bruce won't actually post it in every possible room. He may frame it in his office at work though...if his children found out about that all of his training would be futile against them. They were certainly a force to be reckoned with.

 

Just then, the movie fizzles out and switches to a news channel, with the words EMERGENCY written in bold red letters across the screen. All nine of them immediately look up at it with interest, forgetting all about the photo.

  
  


A dark haired woman was standing in front of a screen, in the process of warning viewers that what was about to be shown may not be fit for children or the faint of heart.

 

"Hey, that's the reporter from before, at the whatchamacallit." Tim chimes in, pointing at the screen.

 

"The  _ press conference?"  _ Stephanie butts in, always ready to correct her younger brother.

 

"Yeah, the whatever. That's the one that kept staring at us weirdly." He frowns. "I don't like her, I get bad vibes from her."

 

"You scanned her mind?" Bruce asks him, still partially paying attention to the TV.

 

"Yeah, I had sunglasses on so don't worry no one saw my eyes change colors but there's something off about her. She's too ambitious. She'll be hard to throw off. She's the type to be able to put together that the same time we arrive in Gotham was the same time that these metahumans also arrived in Gotham." He reports in a slightly mechanical tone, eyes unfocused as he tries to recall just what he had gleaned from her.

 

Bruce nods. "I know. I was hoping the metahumans wouldn't be spotted yet, but I assumed just as much. Don't worry, I'm already working on a solution. It'll be really, eventually."

 

They nod and look back at the screen, where the bodies of eight officers were strewn across the pavement in front of The Penguin's club.

 

"Way to be discreet." Mutters Barbara and Jason elbows her lightly in the ribs.

 

"...There was no evidence that the three men entered the building and surveillance proves that no one had been inside all night-"

 

Tim smiles sweetly at the TV. 

 

"So we can only assume that these men were The Penguin's goons, who the police had caught just as they were going to drop off something for the Supervillain. The police opened fire, shattering the window and connecting with an open propane tank inside, causing the fire. When the three men saw that the Iceberg Lounge was destroyed, they quickly killed the officers and disappeared." The woman, Vicki Vale, looks down respectfully for a moment, before continuing.

 

"The GCPD is working as hard as they can to uncover who these men are and additionally…" her eyes twinkle brightly as she says her next sentence. "Superman and Martian Manhunter are here to announce which Justice League member will be patrolling our streets for the next few weeks! As you all know, Gotham as no superhero of its own so whenever a disastrous occurrence like this happens, the Justice League sends over a member to help keep the peace." She fills in the viewers as two men make their way towards her.

 

The one on her left is dark green and clearly made no effort to hide the fact that he was Martian.

 

Dick wrinkles his nose. "He's ugly."

 

"So are you," Barbara comments automatically.

 

Dick's neck moves to the left so fast that Alfred is surprised it doesn't crack and he flicks her nose. "Why do you always have to be so mean to me?" He demands in a mock whine. "You're my  _ big sister,  _ which means you have to  _ love and protect  _ me." 

 

Barbara just flicks him back and points to the screen, where Superman walks in all his glory.

Bruce grunts loudly and rolls his eyes in annoyance. 

 

"That guy…"

 

Damian and Jason peek over the cushion they were leaning on. "Do we get to kill him?" They ask in unison, looking at their father excitedly.

 

Bruce eyes the screen lazily. "Not yet. But when we do, we're gonna have a lot of  _ fun  _ with him."

 

Damian grins. " _ Baba  _ (father), I get to help?"

 

"You all will," Bruce confirms with a tiny smirk, before motioning them to pay attention to the TV in front of them.

 

"So, will  _ you  _ be patrolling Gotham?" Vale asks in a sticky sweet voice, looking directly at Superman with what could only be described as heart-eyes. 

 

Alfred hears a chorus of disgusted scoffs from everyone around him, Bruce included.

 

Superman smiles politely at the reporter but shakes his head lightly. "Manhunter here has volunteered to patrol Gotham for the next few weeks and we are all very grateful that he stepped up to the task."

 

"Oh. Of course! So are we!" Says Vale, but she looks disappointed. 

 

Martian Manhunter clears his throat quietly and the reporter turns her attention to him.

 

"I will do my best to ensure the safety of Gotham and it's citizens. I start immediately."

 

Vale turns to the camera and smiles brightly. "There you have it, folks! Gotham has its own superhero for the next few weeks!"

 

" _Noo."_ Wails Dick in despair, looking at the TV as if his death had been sealed and the rest of his siblings fix him with a questioning stare and he's quick to elaborate. "I wanted the Flash, and more importantly _Kid Flash_ to patrol Gotham. They're so much more _fun._ " He looks around at his siblings amused expressions and quickly adds "And if we get them out of the way earlier, it'll be easier for us since their speed makes it hard for most of our abilities to affect them." He flashes a blinding smile, eyes squinting to the point that they're almost shut.

 

"Aww I didn't know you had a  _ crush,  _ Dick," Stephanie tells him in an overly sweet voice and Alfred can sense the pending fight from ten feet away. He sighs, waiting for the inevitable, but then Bruce butts in.

 

"No, Dick's right. The Flashes, and all speedsters really, are a threat because of their great speeds. We should focus on them first."

 

"But we're stuck with Ghastly Green." Stephanie pipes in, at the same time that Jason and Barbara ask "You got a problem with green?" 

 

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. It reminds me of puke-"

 

"Not as bad as yellow! Now  _ that's  _ an obnoxious color." Dick puts forth his two cents and Timothy laughs. 

 

"Isn't Kid Flash  _ decked  _ in yellow?"

 

"He's the exception." Dick shrugs lightly.

 

"Anyways." Bruce interrupts them with a small smile and they all look at him. "I know  _ just  _ how to get rid of Manhunter  _ and  _ get the Flashes to patrol Gotham.

 

-

June 17th, 2019

Gotham City; The Docks

11:23 P.M.

  
  


_ "Red Robin. Is the mindlink established?"  _ Batman flexes his wrist lightly, testing out the glove he had just adjusted.

 

_ "Yeah."  _ The response was almost immediate and so Batman turns to the other two that were with him.

 

_ "Perfect. Robin, Oracle are you ready?" _

 

_ "Yes, Batman."  _ They reply in unison and nod silently to affirm what they said.

 

Batman nods back, before raising his index and middle fingers and turning to Oracle and Red Robin points them horizontally towards where the hero was slowly floating in between the huge metal containers.

 

_ "Remember, he's a powerful psychic, so be careful." _

 

Red Robin unconsciously puts his fingers to his temples.  _ "He's not the only telepath here."  _ His maroon eyes were fixated on the Martian, and they seem to glow a little brighter as he increases the strength of his mental attack.

 

The Martian freezes, and turns around, trying to pinpoint where the mental attack was coming from, his eyes glowing a sickly green.

 

Red Robin's body stiffens up from the sheer power of the mental blow that the man throws back at him and the rest of them flinch as well; they hadn't been personally attacked but they could feel what Red Robin was feeling (to a lesser degree) because of their connection in the mindlink.

 

_ "Oracle, you ready?"  _ Red Robin's face looks slightly labored, with thin streaks of sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to fight off the Martian's counterattack.

 

_ "Yeah." _

 

_ "Good. Cuz this guy is a  _ **_lot_ ** _ harder to deal with than originally planned. And I planned a  _ **_lot._ ** _ I'm gonna cut the mindlink to prevent him from attacking your minds as well, so you're all going to have to rely on ASL. Got it?"  _ Red Robin's mouth has a steady stream of blood flowing from it as a result of continuously chewing his lip from concentration. 

 

All three of the others confirm and the mindlink drops and silence fills their minds once more.

 

Batman looks over at Oracle.  _ Remember, make sure that the hallucination ensures that he stays tangible or Robin can't do his part.  _ He signs at her, warning her to be careful.

 

She rolls her eyes before they glow a light green and she stretches out her arms towards the Martian, trapping him in one of her hallucinations.

 

Martins were susceptible to fire. Of course, one would believe that because they were susceptible to it they would immediately become intangible so that the fire could not affect them but the opposite was actually true.

 

The fire attacked their physiology, making use of all their natural abilities almost impossible to use. These abilities covered everything from breathing and walking to flying and phasing.

 

Of course, her hallucinations were not real but they did overpower the senses, so much that the individual under attack truly believes that everything that they were seeing was actually occurring. 

 

The Martian stiffens and twitches lightly for a few seconds, as if his psyche was trying to determine if he was actually surrounded by fire and for a minute Oracle is scared that her hallucination wasn't enough to convince him that what was going on was real, but then the hero drops to the ground writhing as he clutched his head, loud shrieks flowing from his parted mouth.

 

Oracle watches him twist and turn on the bare wood of the dock he had been floating above, the splinters digging into his dark green skin, causing light green blood to flow onto the dark surface of the wood.

 

Red Robin goes in for the kill, increasing his mental attack's strength so that Robin could go in as safely as possible, and the Martian seizes up.

 

Batman grips Robin's shoulder.  _ Move.  _ He tells him with his gestures and the boy immediately gets up, a sharp grin spreading onto his features as he flits towards the fallen hero, moving so lightly that he was virtually undetectable.

 

He nears the man with cautious precision, before he creeps close enough that he was an arm length away, but still far enough away that he could dodge a physical attack.

 

His eyes glow a bright neon red as he places a single hand on the hero's arm and the Martian's screams increase tenfold in volume. His hand stays there until the screams get quieter and quieter until there is no noise but the steady tolling of a faraway bell.

 

Batman, Red Robin, and Oracle drop down soundlessly from their position and make their way over to were Robin still had his hand on the Martian.

 

_ "Keep doing your thing, Robin. I wanna scan him to make sure he's actually out and not playing possum."  _ Red Robin reestablishes the mindlink.

 

Robin looks up at him with an amused expression.  _ "Using figurative language? Impressive, I didn't know you had the mental capability for that." _

 

Red Robin's face falls flat.  _ "I  _ **_also_ ** _ have the mental ability to fry your brain in less than a second. Not that you have much brain to fry." _

 

_ "Boys."  _ Batman's voice brings back their attention to their current situation.

 

_ "Right. Scanning now, arguing later." _

 

_ "You're no fun, Batman." _

 

_ "Depends on who you're asking." _

 

The district bell rings once more before it falls deadly silent as if there had never been a tolling bell in the first place. 

 

-

June 18th, 2019

Gotham City; Wayne Tower

11:31 A.M.

 

The icy cold room was in sharp with the sweltering heat outside, the AC blowing air from the countless air vents that were strategically placed around the room for maximum effect.

 

_ 'Just my luck.'  _ Thinks Vicki Vale with a mournful frown as she wraps her bare arms around her body, trying to conserve heat. It had been so hot outside that she hadn't even  _ thought  _ about bringing a jacket.

 

It was also because she had misunderstood the location so instead of being outside in the heat, they were inside of Wayne Tower waiting for the Wayne family to arrive once more.

 

They had called an impromptu press conference and of course, the press had jumped at the prospect of getting more intel on the billionaire family; years of radio silence and then  _ two  _ (almost) consecutive press conferences? It was unbelievable. Vicki half thought it was a prank, that no one would show up. It would be annoying, but it  _ could _ be brushed off as a joke. An obnoxious one.

 

But then the Waynes began filing in one by one, each looking pristine in their crisp suits, and everyone snapped to attention, watching them intently with cameras ready.

 

Bruce Wayne steps up to the podium with a heavy, tortured look to his face. "Thank you all for coming." He greets them, and Vicki knows he's not here to play; none of them are. Gone is the playful ring to his voice and his quirky facial expressions. 

 

What stood before them today was not the eccentric son of two billionaires but a man who was here of his own right and his own abilities. And his children were no different.

 

While none of them had the exact expression on their faces, there were no flirty grins or deadpan stares. Each one looked worn down and weary, looking down at the ground in front of them respectfully and suddenly Vicki knows what this press conference was about.

 

The Martian Manhunter had been taken down yesterday night. A surveillance camera had shown a grainy image of the man seizing up and falling to the ground, while four hooded figures came up to him and silenced him. They had to be the same people who had murdered the police officers the night before. Footage of the video had made it to the morning news station; everyone was concerned.

 

It was very disconcerting that there was another member. Originally there had been three. Now there were four. How many more would there be? What were they capable of? Taking down one of the League's heavy hitters was no small feat.

 

These individuals were dangerous, and the Waynes, who had just pledged a massive sum of money to help protect Gotham's citizens, were probably starting to feel a bit paranoid.

 

"As you all know," the man begins, placing both of his hands on either side of the podium. "A hero has fallen. Not only has he fallen, but he has vanished. This man pledged to protect Gotham out of his own will, he had no reason to, but he chose to anyway. And he paid the ultimate price." He shuts his eyes and looks down respectfully for a moment before looking back up at the hundreds of cameras blinking up at him and continuing.

 

"We the people  _ cannot  _ allow this to continue. We  _ cannot  _ allow yet another hoard of villains to rule the streets of Gotham. Something must be done, everyone must play their part.

 

"As for my family, the Wayne Foundation will be pledging to financially support the Gotham City Police Department so that they have better equipment and better technology so that they are more prepared to deal with these villains. The Wayne Foundation said they would be here for Gotham's citizens and they will be. We don't back away from our word. That is all. Thank you." He backs away from the stage and just as the countless reporters surge forward to begin to question him, someone else steps up to the podium and everyone freezes in their tracks.

 

Dick Grayson stands confidently in the wake of the cameras and reporters, eyes set determinedly as he grips the sides of the podium and opens his mouth to speak.

 

This was obviously not planned, Vicki notes, since his family members are giving him a variety of confused expressions that seem to reflect off of the reporters themselves. 

 

No one had expected this. Only Bruce Wayne directly addressed the press. 

 

But there he stood, looking directly at the cameras without a bit of hesitation in his eyes. He had something to say and he was going to say it, and for that Vicki's opinion of him went up just a bit more. 

 

"Wait." That single word that is emitted from his mouth is enough to freeze every single person in the room, and they stay frozen hanging on that one single word, waiting for him to continue.

 

His eyes grow rounded and fill with remorse that is almost brimming on anger as he takes his hands off of the podium and stands to his full height.

 

"Gotham has been through a lot." He starts off and smiles lightly. "And we've  _ survived so much.  _ The Joker. Poison Ivy. The Riddler. Countless others. They come and try to tear us down, but we rise above it each and every time. Gotham's stubborn, and so are her citizens.

 

"Yes," he continues, holding up one finger daintily, "Gotham  _ does  _ breed monsters. Monsters that tear themselves apart and everything in their path. That is true, we've all seen it. We've  _ lived  _ it. But remember. A coin has two sides. Yes, Gotham breeds monsters, but it also grows  _ heroes.  _ People who stand up to what is wrong. People who go out of their way to help others. People who don't give up when something doesn't go their way. People who  _ believe  _ in a better future. That's what we are.

 

"Each and every one of us has been carved out by Gotham the same way a river carves out rock. Like it or not, Gotham  _ made  _ us. Gotham  _ is  _ us. And it's our job to protect her. 

 

"I'm not saying go out into the streets and confront The Penguin, you'll probably die." He draws out a few laughs with that, and the atmosphere in the room begins to get a bit lighter.

 

"But support each other. Help out your neighbors and friends. Don't let anyone suffer if you know you can help. We may not always be able to solve the huge problems hanging over our heads but we  _ can  _ make the situation better.

 

"You know someone can't afford to buy groceries? Invite them to dinner. Instead of selling your old clothes, donate them. Support charity work. There's so much we can do for each other, and sometimes we forget that. And I know what you're thinking,  _ what does the billionaire's kid know?  _ And let me just remind you; I spent years living in a circus, I  _ know  _ about poverty. All of us do." He gestures back to his siblings. 

 

"Each of us was helped in some way by another person's kindness. Yeah, not everyone gets adopted by a billionaire, but kindness isn't like money; it can't run out. Be kind, care for one another. Us civilians may not be able to do what the Justice League or the GCPD does but we can still help in a number of ways. 

 

"And the guys out there who are going around killing people? Cowards. Find something better to do." He snaps, looking directly at the cameras. "If you have the ability to take down  _ Martian Manhunter  _ than you have the capability to do some real good. Reevaluate your life, before it's too late. Because you  _ will _ be stopped. Whether it's in a few days or a couple of months; those who do wrong never go without punishment. Think real long and hard about that. Thank you." He spins on his heel and walks off the stage, the rest of his siblings following after him.

 

Vicki watches him go with wide eyes before turning back to the camera and addressing the viewers before ending the program.

 

"Kid's got guts." She comments to Andrew, the intern who was apparently now stuck with her for the rest of eternity.

 

"Not sure if he has brains though," Andrew mutters as he begins putting away the camera equipment. "He basically put a target on his back."

 

Vicki shrugs. "He's a billionaire, he can afford an extra bodyguard or two." 

 

Andrew laughs lightly before sobering up a bit. "He  _ was  _ right though. What he said. All of it. Real good points."

 

Vicki nods thoughtfully, looking around her. "You're right; he seemed to have a big impact based on how everyone here is reacting."

 

Andrew stilled for a moment before quietly saying "My neighbor is really struggling with the rent this month. I think I'll invite him over for dinner. So he doesn't have to worry about paying for food tonight."

 

Vicki looks back at him as if she's seeing him in a new light before nodding softly. "I think I'll do the same."

 

They smile at each other and Vicki goes home feeling a little less annoyed at having Andrew being her permanent cameraman.

 

-

June 18th, 2019

Gotham City; Wayne Tower

1:07 P.M.

 

_ "That."  _ Dick says as he loosens his tie and tosses it onto the nearest chair "Went perfectly."

 

"Yeah." Babs kicks off her yellow heels and drops onto the couch. "Your 'impromptu' speech was flawless. It didn't seem rehearsed at all. Though you  _ did  _ kinda deviate from my original script." She frowns lightly.

 

"I forgot it." He admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But it still went well. You think it'll be enough to get Nightwing to come after me?"

 

Bruce places his hand on Dick's shoulder. "With a performance like  _ that,  _ it's enough to get both Nightwing  _ and  _ Robin."

 

Damian looks up at them with interest. "I get to go too? That is definitely satisfactory. I'm  _ far _ more capable than Jason."

 

Jason snorts. "The only reason you're going and not me is because you're too small to pull off a convincing appearance charm."

 

"That's what  _ baba  _ wants you to think." Damian shoots back, before unbuttoning the rest of his suit.

 

"I'm just lovin' the irony of it all," Steph says as she plops down across Babs' lap before adjusting her pantsuit. "Everyone thinks we're their heroes when we're actually gonna be their demise. That's some Shakespearean level shit right there."

 

"What do  _ you  _ know about Shakespeare?" Jason tosses her a disbelieving glance. "I  _ know  _ for a  _ fact  _ that you haven't read a  _ single  _ book for school in like. Ten years."

 

"Maybe I read it for fun."

 

"Yeah and maybe I'm Wonder Woman." Jason snorts and dodges the shoe she throws at him.

 

Cass taps Tim's arm and he looks up at the screen. "Ooh! Guys we're on TV- wow I do  _ not  _ look good in that suit oh my  _ God." _

 

"You look  _ fine  _ Timmy, but more importantly, I look stunning."

 

Tim fixes Dick with an unimpressed look. "You know what stunning means?"

 

Dick slaps his hand to his chest. "Rude."

 

"Hey look! They're announcing the new hero who's gonna patrol Gotham!" Calls out Stephanie, who had begun to flip through the channels and Dick immediately glances at the TV, eyes glued to the screen.

 

"...While Central City will be sad to see them go, both the Flash and Kid Flash have been assigned to patrol Gotham for the weeks to come." The reporter on the screen informs them, and a picture of two streaks are portrayed onto the TV.

 

Dick eyes the yellow streak with interest. "Well if anything, this'll be  _ fun."  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading ! you should comment (if you want) lmao
> 
> The ending'a kinda rushed but what you gon do lol


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im SO SORRY for the wait bdjsbjsccbjsbjqjbc i had some things happen so i didn't really have time to write :/  
> but ya lol if this chapter seems rushed its cuz i Did rush cuz ...three months and all lol
> 
> PLEASE read the tags on this fic i don't want anybody reading anything they're not comfortable with :)

_ July 15th, 2006 _

_ Gotham City; Amusement Mile _

_ 10:44 P.M. _

 

_ He loved the trapeze; the way he could trick gravity into letting him fly, if only for a moment. The way the crowd roared when he did a flip [or four]. The way he had them dangling in the palms of his hands, hanging on the edge of their seats in anticipation for what would come next. The feeling of performing alongside his family, like they were all birds flitting through the trees together. The freedom and sheer joy that came from swinging through the air without the aid of a net. It was one of a kind.  _

_ Just like him. At least that's what his daj [mom] told him.  _

_ He laughs quietly to himself as he waits for the finale to begin and his daj looks down at him with a fond expression.  _

_ "What is it, little robin?" She asks in a hushed tone so that she doesn't disrupt the other members of the Flying Graysons who are currently stretching and mentally rehearsing their act. _

_ He sends her a 100-watt grin. "Just thinking about something you told me." _

_ She bites her lip to keep from letting out a soft laugh and Dick tries to do the same, except that he fails and ends up exhaling hard through his nose. _

_ His uncle looks up at them from where he was stretching and shakes his head in amusement. _

_ "Your son is so much like you, Mary. And John. I'm beginning to think that mixing the both of you together maybe wasn't the wisest decision." He jokes, before reaching over to poke Dick, who jumps back, laughing at him. _

_ His daj grins. "Or maybe we had Dick for the sole purpose of ensuring that you have a heart attack before you reach 40." _

_ His dat [dad] pokes his head into their small circle. "That's exactly what we planned."  _

_ Dick pokes his side until he looks down at him. "I thought you said we weren't supposed to eavesdrop on people." He accuses, eyebrows furrowing up at him. _

_ His dat's grin drops and he immediately tries to explain himself. "Well, it's a small space up here, Dickie. What do you want me to do, get so close to the edge that I fall just so I can't hear you?" _

_ He frowns suspiciously up at his dat but accepts the explanation, turning to look down at the crowd that was sitting seventy feet below them. _

_ There were so many people littering the stadium that Dick’s sure that some people would have to stand during the performance. A smug smile worms its way onto his face and he throws his head back, looking at the deep reds and whites of the circus tents’ roof. All these people came to see  _ them.  _ The circus freaks. People made fun of them but then turned around to watch them for hours on end with eyes brimming with awed expressions.  _

_ It was funny how flimsy peoples’ standards were; they say one thing and then turn around and do the opposite. How people could throw slurs in their faces and then come around the next day and practically worship them with their shouts of praise was beyond Dick, but he finds it funny. People’s minds were weak, and he could use that for his own advantage. He did.  _

_ His neck starts to get stiff, so he tilts it back down, watching the contortionists below reach the end of their performance. They twist and bend, swirling their colorful ribbons as they move, seemingly beckoning the people in the crowd to join in.  _

_ The yellows, reds, oranges, pinks, and blues of the ribbons all blur together and seem to have a life of their own, separated from the contortionists who wield them. They dart in and out of the air around, surrounding the performers as they do their complex splits and flips on the ground below. Their bodies move with such grace and Dick can’t help but wonder how their bodies work; how they were able to force themselves to move like that while managing to make it look effortless. It was breathtaking, and he can feel his fingers reaching out towards them, enchanted.  _

_ Only when he feels himself start to tilt downwards does he realize what he’s doing and he drops his hands and grips the wooden platform under him that was smoothed out from years of use.  _

_ Two loud BANGS go off and suddenly the contortionists are surrounded in thick smoke, grey, green, and purple tendrils curling around them as they move, their bodies partially obscured from view. Dick isn’t sure how, but he knows how they’re moving even with half their bodies hidden behind heavy colored smoke.  _

_ The ribbons flash out of the smoke like a striking snake, the pale oranges and pinks contrasting with the deep reds and blues as they weave together and then pull apart. He observes the way the ribbons move, how they seem to flow steadily at one moment and then jerk back in the next. Positives and negatives. He tilts his head and focuses on the performers themselves. They moved the same way, muscles cording together in bunches and then stretching out gracefully as they move. _

_ The audience is captivated by them, and so is Dick. He’s so enthralled with them that when his daj lightly touches his shoulder to get his attention, he jerks back in shock.  _

_ She laughs lightly and tells him that they need to get into position; they were next and would perform in five minutes. _

_ Dick stands up fluidly and a different smile grows onto his face, overcoming his more free, joyful one. This one was more plastic, more conformative. Because people didn’t like what was different, they liked normal and so that’s what Dick would give them. This was showbiz, after all.  _

_ As the lights focus on him, he feels his whole body relax and he lets out a soft exhale; this is what he was made for. He hears Haly announce them, sees the cues from his parents, and begins to run. He runs and runs until his feet reach the end of the platform and then he lets himself  _ fall _. _

_ He can faintly hear the terrified gasp of the audience as he falls but it’s overpowered by the sound of the wind rushing through his ears and he relaxes, letting gravity do its work. The colors are blurring together as he hurdles downwards until everything around him looks like an abstract watercolor painting. He doesn’t close his eyes. _

_  He relishes the feeling of true freedom for another second before arching his back and shoulders and grabbing onto the trapeze. The colors around him jerk to a stop, no longer swirling together, and then he’s propelling himself up towards the sky as fast as he can. His legs bend slightly, and he lets go of the bar as he flies upwards, not a worry in the world. _

_ His eyes zero into his daj’s eyes, which mirrors his own. He stretches out his arms upwards and her own strong hands wrap around his wrists just as he does the same. Safe in her grasp, they share a single blinding smile, a real one that they saved for themselves and didn’t show the audience, and then she’s throwing him back up, even higher.  _

_ He twists and flips as he goes up, a laugh bubbling out of his throat as the colors blend together once more and the wind overpowers his ears.  _

_ His dat grabs him by his ankles and propels him up again, and he’s flying once more. He bites back the whoop of glee that’s building in his throat as he’s caught by his uncle and sent through the air once more. _

_ His part of the show was almost done, to his irritation. He wasn’t old enough to partake in the next couple of stunts. He thinks its bullshit; he’s better than some people three times his age, but he doesn’t bother trying to butt into the next part of the performance. Getting a lecture afterward wasn’t worth it.  _

_ He shuts his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the feeling of being suspended in midair, before snapping them open once more and completing his act. _

_ As his feet touch the platform, the audience erupts in cheers and he waves cheekily at them from his perch before settling down to watch his family complete the rest of the act. _

_ ‘Two years.’ he tells himself. In two years he’ll be nine and will be allowed to have a bigger part of the performance. _

_ He watches as his parents twist flawlessly through the air, catching each other every time without a fear in the world. They move with such grace that Dick can barely make out their movements. _

_ Spinning, his mother arches up towards her husband, and Dick’s aunt does the same with his uncle, their fingertips brush in a single breathtaking moment before suddenly they’re falling apart, falling down, down, down, the ropes attached to the bars waving frantically as they fall down in cadence with his family members. _

_ Dick hears a harsh scream and wonders where it came from. When he feels his throat tighten painfully and a hot liquid drip from his opened lips, he realized it came from him. _

_ There’s a brief tingle in his eyes and suddenly the colors fade away except for blue. The blues around him seem to burn brightly, so bright his eyes sting. And suddenly, he can feel his parents’ bodies as they strain and twist, trying to find a way to stop their fall. He can feel their arms reach up helplessly as they strain towards him.  _

_ He makes eye contact with them just as they hit the floor, both their blue eyes too bright. The color of their eyes was too bright and he feels as their bodies slam against the floor and their muscles spasm and their bones crack. He feels their hearts struggling to beat and their lungs shuddering as they try to breathe. The oversaturated blue of their eyes seem to brighten for a moment, and then their eyelids slip over their irises and all Dick can see is the red that is flowing around his family members’ bodies.  _

_ He can still feel their bodies and he lets out another cry, trying to shake the feeling away. More of the hot liquid squirts out of his mouth and he wipes it away with the back of his wrist. When he looks at his wrist, it’s the same color as his family members’ blood.  _

_ He falls back, shaking, and he can distantly feel his torso rapidly rising and falling as he struggles to breathe. He tries to focus on something else. _

_ Shutting his eyes, he tries to feel anything else but his own body, and to his horror, he can. When he looks around for the source, he sees two men in the corner, barely visible and can feel their body shake with suppressed laughter. He peers through the panic and he suddenly recognizes them as the men who had threatened his family and Haly earlier that day. The man takes out what was a very distinct knife and a snarl rumbles from the back of his throat as he observes them from his perch. _

_ His daj always said he had better vision than was good for him, and right now he was inclined to agree with her; he didn’t want to see them. He didn’t want to  _ know.  _ He had no way to prove it was them, and now he’d have to live out his whole life knowing who killed his family without being able to do anything. _

_ His heart beats faster at an irregular pace and Dick soon realizes that it wasn’t his heart he was feeling; he was feeling the two men’s hearts as they beat. He worries at his lip for a second before coming to his decision. He may not be able to prove they killed his parents, but they’d never be able to prove that  _ he  _ killed  _ them _. _

_ Growling, he throws out his arms, fingers crooked as he reaches out for their hearts. It’s a bit of a struggle to find, given the distance between them, but soon he feels a slight pulse in each hand and his fingers curl around each heart. _

_ He sees each man pause, and he squeezes harder, slowly curling his hands into fists. The men react in accordance with his movements, bending over and slowly sliding against the walls and falling to the floor. He can feel their lungs straining, but he focuses on the hearts, crushing them with all his might. _

_ He feels each heart quiver one last time and he tightens his grip before he feels their hearts stutter to a stop, and he lets go as the people around the two men notice their purpling faces and lack of breathing. _

_ Suddenly, he can breathe again, and the colors are back to normal. He stands up unsteadily and grips at the post, looking down at his family. Tears well in his eyes, but he doesn’t brush them away. He lets out a halting breath. _

_ His daj had always told him he was one of a kind. _

 

_ ~ _

 

June 26th, 2019

 

Gotham City

 

6:31 A.M.

 

Oracle adjusts her comm and looks back as Orphan and Spoiler land softly behind her, waiting for her instructions. Throwing out a few hand signs so that they both can see, they nod at each other and melt into the shadows just as a rush of wind blows by.

Oracle rolls her eyes and resists the urge to blow her bangs out of her face. They were currently tied securely and hidden away, so she’d just look dumb blowing air out of her mouth at nothing. That didn’t mean she didn’t want to do it though.

They had been trailing the Flashes for over an hour, observing their routes, speeds, and reaction times. Either both of the Central City heroes were dumb as rocks and were completely unaware that they’ve been tailed for over an hour, or they just didn’t care. She shakes her head in irritation. She couldn’t stand metas who put too much trust in their special abilities. That’s how you get taken down; you get cocky.

There was a reason Batman trained all of them for years on end with inhibitor collars. Yes, having abilities helped give you an edge, but you shouldn’t have to rely on them to complete whatever task you were given. If you do, you should take a step back and reevaluate what you’re doing.

The mentality that powers made you untouchable was a severe liability. 

Another gush of wind blows by and she’s pulled out of her thoughts and stealthily moves to another building, eyeing the red and yellow blurs that were currently crisscrossing the city. Kid Flash was fast but was significantly slower than the Flash. For every ten feet Flash could cover, Kid Flash covered only seven in the same amount of time. 

It had taken an hour of painstaking observation to learn even that about them. They moved  _ fast.  _ It was annoying.

_ Hopefully Kid Flash isn’t  _ too _ fast in bed or Nightwing’s gonna be sorely disappointed.  _ She thinks wryly to herself and she can feel Spoiler’s amusement rolling off her in waves. They might not be mentally linked right now, but Oracle knows for a fact that all three of them were thinking of the exact same thing or something along those lines.

In the distance, she picks up the distinct sound of people screaming and she sighs as both blurs take off in that direction and signals for Orphan and Spoiler to follow.

Thankfully, the sounds of the screams weren’t too far away so they’re soon watching as both of the Flashes are restraining a  _ very  _ unimpressed Joker, who’s struggling against the restraints while complaining about how they ‘didn’t even give him a chance to start another one of his plans’. 

Kid Flash says something she can’t pick up from so far away, but from the way The Flash pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, she’s kinda glad she didn’t hear it. Then the Flash disappears for a moment, taking the Joker with him. Not even a minute later, he’s back empty handed and announces that the Joker was back in Arkham. The few people that were crazy enough to be awake at this goddamn hour of the day cheer, before both of the superheroes disappear from view. 

Oracle moves to sit next to her two sisters, worrying at her bottom lip thoughtfully before finally deciding to speak. “New plan. We’re going to Arkham.”

Spoiler lets out an overexaggerated sigh. “Thank  _ god.  _ If I spent one more minute watching these two freaks I would have killed someone.” She pauses before rephrasing her sentence. “I would have killed  _ another  _ person. I’m a cold blooded killer, you know.” She waggles her eyebrows at them, and Oracle can practically see her grin underneath her mask. 

Oracle can’t see her face, but she knows Orphan rolled her eyes at Spoiler’s words. Orphan rapidly signs something, telling Spoiler she was full of shit and that she’d seen her screaming over a spider just  _ yesterday.  _

“Spiders are in a different category,” Spoiler tells her as they take off, running over rooftops and between alleyways. 

Oracle doesn’t bother telling Spoiler to be quiet, there was a reason her meta ability had to do with speech, and it wasn’t her willingness to listen first and speak later. Instead, she focuses on making as little noise as possible, putting on foot in front of the other as she ran, forcing herself to move faster, trying to burn out the small tendril of rage that’s forming in her gut, threatening to spill over and burn up everything around it. 

She couldn’t lose control now, she had to be careful.

The Asylum was the worst place in Gotham, and it had the worst security on the goddamn planet, in her humble opinion. As they slip in past the security cameras that she had disabled, she sets an illusion on all the individuals in the area. Nothing harmful, it would just make it seem like everything was in place.

Quietly, they blend into their surroundings, scurrying throughout the Asylum before stopping in front of a door labeled ENTER WITH CARE. 

Scoffing, she pushes the door open and is met with loud, hysterical laughter. 

 

-

 

June 26th, 2019

 

Gotham City; Some Random Street

 

11:31 A.M.

 

Dick steps out of the ice cream shop, feeling the heat from outside slam into him like a brick wall and he resists the urge to turn around and walk back into the air conditioning. Holding the door open for his brothers, he turns and gives a wave to the employee at the counter, shouting ‘Thanks!’ as he lets the door shut behind him.

Falling into step with his brothers, they walk down the street, seemingly oblivious to the paparazzi trailing around them.

Dick takes a slow lick of his dulce de leche flavored ice cream, letting his tongue run over the scoops of ice cream while shutting his eyes, enjoying the flavor. He hears Jason snort, but thankfully he doesn’t ruin his moment. Reopening his eyes, he looks straight at a reporter and smiles coyly at her, before going back to his ice cream.

Her face tints pink, but he doesn’t pay her any mind, choosing instead to turn to Damian who was currently attacking his single scoop of rocky road with the same fervor he attacked his opponents during sparring.

“You like it?” He asks offhandedly, deliberately placing his hand lightly on Damian’s shoulder. Damian, who usually tries to avoid contact, allows him to leave his hand there without even tensing. It was all for the paparazzi.

“Of course I do.” Damian manages to snap, even while sending one of the brightest fake smiles in his arsenal. The old ladies at the Wayne events love that smile.

They keep walking down the street, eating their ice cream and scouting out their route for patrol that night.

Jason gets jostled by a group of preschoolers that are being herded by a tried looking summer program worker, and his ice cream is knocked out of the cone. He stares down mournfully at the melting clump of raspberry flavored ice cream, head bowed in vigil. 

Dick quirks an eyebrow at him. “You good?”

“Those preschoolers owe me $3.48.” He tells him blandly, before shoving his hands into his pockets and adopting a slouched posture.

“You can have some of mine.” Tim offers helpfully, knowing fully well that Jason despised the flavor of ice cream he has.

As predicted, Jason’s lip curls up in disgust and informs him that if he  _ wanted  _ to taste toothpaste, he’d brush his fucking teeth, thank you very much.

Tim shrugs before going back to his mint chocolate chip ice cream. “Your loss.”

Jason scoffs loudly. “ _ You’re  _ the one losing, not me.”

“MMMM.” Tim hums loudly, licking sloppily at his ice cream. “ _ Mint.  _ It’s so  _ good.  _ And  _ cold.  _ I’m sure glad that I have something to help keep this hot weather at bay.”

Jason looks like he’s seriously considering knocking the ice cream out of Tim’s hands, and Tim seems to realize this because he tells Jason if he does then he’ll be the one owing $3.48.

“Just put in on those preschoolers tab,” Jason grunts irritably, before leaving Tim’s ice cream intact. 

“Stop acting like such a child, Jason,” Damian mutters under his breath, glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

Jason sputters loudly, stopping in his tracks. “Let me knock that ice cream out of  _ your  _ hands and see how you react, pipsqueak.”

Tim doesn’t give Damian time to respond and Dick sends a mental thanks to whoever was out there for stopping what would have been an inevitable fight.

“Hey, guys! It says here that the Flash and Kid Flash captured and resent Joker back to Arkham.” He tells them, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolls through the news app. He visibly brightens and looks up and shoves his phone in Jason’s face. “It looks like  _ someone  _ broke into Arkham soon after and put him in a full body cast.”

“She couldn’t have waited for me?” Jason whines, grabbing Tim’s phone to read the details for himself. He stares at it for a couple of seconds before nodding in satisfaction. “At least she didn’t kill him without me. I still have dibs.”

Dick feels someone approaching him from behind, so he lets out a laugh and steps backward, purposely tripping the person and pretending to stumble himself.

Once he knows the person is on the ground, he spins around and helps them up, gasping a loud “Oh my god I am  _ so  _ sorry, are you okay?”

The boy accepts his hands with a grimace, standing up and rubbing the back of his head. His nose wrinkles when his mouth curves up and Dick thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

He plasters a concerned expression on his face and holds the boy’s arms lightly as he gathered himself together, giving Dick a chance to observe him.

He was taller than Dick by a few inches, with a very well toned body, Dick notes absently as his fingers tighten ever so slightly on the muscles of his arms. The guy has a nice face that was sprinkled in freckles with two large emerald green eyes that are framed by his unruly red hair. Dick decides he’s in love.

The guy blinks twice, before focusing on Dick’s face and his gaze sharpens as he recognizes him. Dick’s mouth curves up into a smile and repeats his question.

The redhead nodded slowly and starts to pull away from Dick’s grasp, but Dick tightens his grip on him. 

“You  _ sure  _ you’re okay? You look like you hit your head pretty bad.”

“Uh, yeah. I heal fast.” The boy stammers, pink starting to tint at his cheeks and Dick has to resist the urge to let his smile turn predatory.  _ Too easy.  _ He thinks to himself, before forcing him to let go of the other person, missing the other boy’s heat on his hands immediately. 

“Dick.” The other boy’s head snaps up so fast Dick had to keep himself from checking to see if he had injured his neck somehow. 

“ _ Excuse me?”  _ The boy demands, eyes narrowing and he opens his mouth to deliver a retort when Dick laughs, cutting off.

“That’s my name.”

“Your name is...Dick?” The boy looks at him in disbelief, eyes widening slightly and Dick nods charmingly.

“Don’t wear it out, speedy.”

The other boy immediately flushes and begins to stammer something when Dick looks at him in confusion. “Because you were in such a hurry…?” He lets the question trail off and watches as the other boy deflates in relief with sharp eyes. Internally, he wonders how this kid kept his identity a secret from  _ anyone.  _

“And you?”

The boy blinked, mouth quirking downwards. “What?”

“Your name,” Dick tells him patiently, just like he would explain to a toddler that they couldn’t touch the stove because it was hot.

“Oh.” The kid licks his lips unconsciously and swallows as his face shifts from light pink to red. Dick tries to not blatantly stare at his throat as he swallows again. 

“Wally.” All sense of nervousness is suddenly gone from him and he holds out his arm with a small smirk ghosting his lips.

“ _ Wally.”  _ Dick purrs as he accepts his offered hand, pulling him closer to him instead of shaking the hand. Dick is vaguely aware of his siblings looking at him like he just caught the plague, but he ignores them for the moment, focusing on Wally.

To Wally’s credit, and to Dick’s disappointment, he doesn’t blush when he’s suddenly only inches from Dick’s face. All he does is grin and lean in closer.

“You could at least buy me dinner first.” He leers and Dick throws back his head and laughs.

“Maybe I will.”

That seems to freeze up the other boy. “What?”

“Buy you dinner,” Dick tells him, the slightest edges of a sneer creeping up in his voice.

The other’s eyebrows shoot up and he opens his mouth to respond when someone grabs him and tugs at him.

“Wally! Thank  _ god,  _ Iris would never forgive me if I lost you.” Dick glares at the blond man as he talks to Wally, his irritation wafting off of him in waves. Of course, no one around them but his brothers could sense it, but by the way they tensed up slightly, they didn’t enjoy sensing it. 

The blond man finally turns to them with an apologetic smile. “Sorry to interrupt you boys but we really have to run.”

One of Dick’s eyes twitches at the pun and he plasters a polite smile on his face while internally questioning how  _ any  _ of the heroes kept their identities a secret. “No worries,” He tells him smoothly, before shifting his gaze to Wally. “Guess I’ll see you around sometime?” He murmurs demurely, internally preening when Wally’s face becomes dusted with a light pink blush.

“Uh yeah. I. Yeah. We gotta run.” He points over his shoulder with his thumb and Dick nods solemnly, eyes trained on him as he and the other man walk away.

When they disappear from view, Jason lets out an awkward cough from behind the back of his wrist as he eyes Dick. “You  _ do  _ know that that’s-”

“Yep,” Dick tells him, a pleased grin crossing over his face as he eyes the spot where Wally and the other man had disappeared.

“Tt. You’re a fool.” Damian sniffs, shaking his head in displeasure. “I will not allow that,  _ creature,”  _ he says delicately, “to touch you.”

“Oh but Dami, what if I  _ want  _ him to touch me?” Dick teases, and Damian looks up at him, horrified. 

“I’ll tell Barbara.” He threatens, and Dick lets out a sharp bark of laughter. 

“I dunno.” Tim shrugs, looking from Dick and Damian lazily from where he was leaning against the wall. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Jason snorts but doesn’t comment, just punches Dick lightly in the side as he walks by. They continue on, finishing scouting out their route for patrol that night and head back home.

 

-

 

June 26th, 2019

 

Gotham City; Same Random Street As Before

 

11:31 P.M.

  
  


Nightwing wipes back the steady flow of blood that spilled from his lip, a snarl curling onto his lips as he eyes the man who had managed to land a hit on him; the Flash. 

It was fair, the reasonable side of him tells him. The man had  _ superspeed.  _ Of course, Nightwing couldn't dodge him every single time, but that doesn't mean his pride wasn't at least a bit bruised. He shakes his head, trying to clear his head from his emotions. The Flash would get his reckoning soon enough, he had to focus on Kid Flash for now.

" _ Nightwing. Are you ready?"  _ Batman's voice flows into his mind from the mindlink and Nightwing responds, confirming his position. He puts his katana away. It would do him no good right now. Instead, he focuses on his abilities, feeling the small burn in his eyes as they increase in color. 

Batman, Oracle, Spoiler, and Red Hood focus their attack on the Flash and Nightwing feels a lurch of adrenaline flow through him as he lands in front of Kid Flash, taunting him and luring him away from his mentor.

Kid Flash, ever the hothead, chases after him without a second thought and soon they're standing in an abandoned building site. It was the best place Nightwing could find. With pieces of equipment, lumber, and rubble littering the ground, it would help slow the speedster. It wouldn't slow him down by much, but it would be enough. It had to be. 

He feels Orphan's eyes on him and he suddenly is met with a familiar silence as she mutes the area around them to keep the hero from calling out for help. After a moment, the silence lifts for him and he hums a quiet tune as he waits for Kid Flash to skid around the corner and confront him.

Sure enough, the hero is there in seconds, opening his mouth to yell at Nightwing. When nothing comes out of his throat, his eyes widen in alarm before they narrow with focus.

Nightwing smiles at him.  _ Good. Let him be cocky. All the more easier for me.  _

He reaches out, feeling for the other's body, but the hero begins to move and his body moves too fast for Nightwing to be able to pin him down. 

He sighs and begins humming a little louder, so the hero can hear him. It would be unnerving for the hero to find out that while he's mute, his enemy still has full use of his vocal cords. 

Just as predicted, he feels Kid Flash's speed slow down just a fraction as he picks up the tune he's humming (Naruto Shippuden Opening 2) and Nightwing can practically  _ feel  _ the disbelief rolling off the hero when he registers just what Nightwing's humming. 

Nightwing absolutely wonders if Kid Flash would be willing to binge watch Naruto with him later on. Probably not, he decides. Most captives weren't that complaint, unfortunately.

He reaches out, feeling for the heroes legs, and tightens his grip. Kid Flash stumbles forwards, slowing down just enough for Nightwing to grab at his heart and squeeze just enough to render him immobile.

The hero collapses, clutching at his chest and Nightwing gets a firm grasp over his entire body before sauntering forwards towards him.

"You know," he begins conversationally as he pulls something from his utility belt, "I know the phrase "fell for you" exists for a reason, but I never thought that I'd meet someone who takes it so  _ literally."  _ He pulls the entire object from his belt but keeps it out of Kid Flash's view.

The hero's expression darkens. "Fuck you." He spits out or tried to. With most of his body being held immobile, it came out as more of a whimper.

Orphan must have lost sight of him since his voice was back. Oh well.

"If you insist." Nightwing purrs, dropping down and pressing his knees in between Kid Flash's thighs as he leans and slowly straps the inhibitor collar onto his neck, taking his time to arrange it on his neck. 

Kid Flash struggles to squirm away, but Nightwing's grip on his body is harsh and he can't even blink if Nightwing doesn't let him. He smiles down at the hero mockingly. "Don't worry." He taps his chest, right over where the lightning bolt symbol sat. "I won't hurt you." He leans in and mutters in the hero's ear " _ unless you want me too."  _

He feels the other's throat choke at his words and he jams his fingers against one of the pressure points and feels the other's body go slack as he falls unconscious.

 

*

 

Nightwing knows that Wally's awake before he does, sitting expectantly in front of the other as he slowly comes back to the land of the living. 

The boy's eyebrows pressed together as his eyes move rapidly from behind his eyelids and his pink tongue runs over his bruised bottom lip. When he tries to shift and finds himself unable to do so, his eyes snap open and makes eye contact with Nightwing's pure blue glowing eyes.

Wally's expression twists with anger, but Nightwing can pick up the traces of terror on his face.

He grins and waves at him. Wally pointedly looks in the other direction. Nightwing rounds the see through cage and stands directly in front of him again. Wally childishly squeezes his eyes shut and Nightwing makes an unimpressed expression.

Briefly latching onto Wally's body to make him immobile, Nightwing enters the cage before locking it behind it. He stands directly in front of the hero and waits for him to realize.

When Wally keeps his eyes shut, Nightwing pokes his cheek and his eyes snap open. When he sees Nightwing standing over him, he jerks back, staring up at him with wild eyes.

Nightwing eyes Wally's restrained body, noting the inhibitor collar, as well as the thick reinforced ropes that tied Wally's legs, arms, hands, and torso to the chair and nods in satisfaction. Robin never disappointed with his knots ability. 

When Wally keeps looking away from him, he leans down and leans into his space. Wally squirms under his gaze but his eyes are glued on him. At least Nightwing can  _ feel  _ that they are. He frowns thoughtfully. He wanted to see Wally's pretty green eyes.

An idea creeps into his mind and he takes a minute to praise his own genius. Lowering himself so that they were eye to eye, he gently runs over Wally's mask, slowly making his way down to where the edge was. 

Wally eyes him with a confused expression that quickly morphs into panic when Nightwing hooks his fingers under his mask and begins to pull it back, off Wally's face.

The hero begins to buck as he tries to dislodge Nightwing's hand from his mask but Nightwing doesn't budge even an inch as he continues to pull off the mask.

When the mask reaches the last part of his face there's some resistance with the fabric and Nightwing sighs and brings out a small dagger and cuts away the last of his mask, throwing the strips of fabric to the other side of the cage and putting the dagger away, beyond Wally's reach.

Wally keeps his head down, trying to preserve his identity but Nightwing grabs his chin and lifts his face up. His expression was surprisingly closed off for someone who was usually very expressive, but Nightwing supposes that's to be expected.

He leans in until their noses are almost brushing against each other, watching with fascination as flush creeps up Wally's cheeks and nose. He tries to pull away for a bit but Nightwing holds him firmly and he just relents, looking up at Nightwing forlornly.

Nightwing looks back at him impassively from behind his domino mask, staring hard at him for a few more moments before letting go of him and turning around sharply, exiting the cage and relocking it.

He ignores the amusement glances he gets from his siblings as they wait for the other members to get back. 

Soon, a quiet beeping alerts them that individuals have entered the batcave and soon enough Batman, Oracle, Spoiler, and Red Hood waltz back in, with varying degrees of grins painted on their faces.

Oracle flips on the computer and shows the news, which reports that the Flash had gone on a rampage and that Superman had been called in to stop him.

" _ Nice?  _ Which one did you use?" Nightwing asks Oracle, impressed and she grins brightly at him and told him that that was her secret. He shrugs and drops it, knowing that no matter what it was he'd probably be better off not knowing it existed. Combine whatever hallucination she came up with Batman's ability to increase fear, it was the perfect way to get a superhero to go berserk.

The camera zooms in to Superman regretfully knocking out the Flash and putting an inhibitor collar on him. At this point, Nightwing looks back at Wally, who's staring at the screen with wide, dismayed eyes. He notices Nightwing staring at him and hunches his shoulders, shrinking back.

Red Hood throws back his arms back as he yawns, announcing he was going to bed. The rest agree with him and turn off the lights in the cave and walking out of it, ignoring Wally's desperate screams. The cave door slams shut, drowning out the noise just as the screaming shifts into quiet sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i KNOW some of ya'll are like "where's duke????????' and i Get That ,,just know he comes in Soon. im not saying when cuz i dont wanna spoil something but yeah..he IS gonna be in the story lol. ,,comments are always appreciated uwu
> 
> also Totally shameless self advertimesmt here BUT im writing a naruto fic that's honestly a v niche interest that's written for my goddamn self but if u wanna read it...🤪🤪👀👀


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's kinda short but whatcha gon do lolll  
> again this isn't edited rip

_ April 27th, 2010 _

_ Gotham City; Unknown _

_ 3:06 A.M. _

 

_ Blood was hot, Jason thinks absently, feeling the burning liquid ooze down his cheeks and drip down his chin. Shuddering, he rolls into a small ball and bring his cuffed hands under his legs and then up in front of his torso. He lets out a small sigh of relief, at least his hands weren’t confined behind him anymore. _

_ He scans the room blearily, head throbbing from the pain as he tries to stand on his legs. They give out and he lets out a howl of pain as he falls and lands on his broken ribs. Ten feet away from him the  _ woman  _ looks at him coldly from where she was tied to a chair. _

_ He doesn’t know why she was glaring at him; this was all her fault. He doesn’t know why she thought she’d be able to trust the Joker, but not all people were gifted with working brain cells, Jason concedes after mulling it over.  _

_ He coughs, wincing as his lungs shudder with effort, his breath becoming more and more labored as his collapsed lungs struggle to expand with oxygen. He shifts on the floor, his fingers coated in the hot sticky substance.  _

_ His head is pounding and his chest is screaming out and his legs refuse to work how he needs them too. The blood pours out faster, so he works his brain even faster, looking for a way out.  _

_ There’s a pair of clippers hanging on the wall to his left, the type that is used to cut thick branches. If he can get to it, he can try to cut off the cuffs that are binding his hands together. If he can move his hands freely, then he can pick the lock on the door. He knows he can do it; he hasn’t survived so long on the streets without picking up some skills.  _

_ Biting his lip, he begins scooting towards the wall where the clippers where hanging, ignoring the sharp pain blooming in his body as best as he can. His teeth cut into his lips from the effort, but he doesn’t stop biting. It was a newer, fresher pain that helped distract from all the other cuts, breaks, and bruises that are demanding his attention. He bites harder and more blood trickles down his lips. He feels light headed and he remembers that people can die from blood loss. He stops biting his lips. _

_ He’s already losing enough blood, he doesn’t need to speed up the process. His breath is raspy and his vision is swimming but he keeps pushing himself towards the clippers, determined. He was not going to die here.  _

_ Gripping a brittle edge with his fingers, he ignores the shards that pierce at his already raw fingertips as he struggles to stand, using the edge to give him as much leverage as possible. He pushes up, ignoring the excruciating burn his legs are giving off and reaches up with his already injured arms, letting go of the edge, fingers closing around the tool. He gives a sharp tug, but it stays firmly in its position.  _

_ Scowling, he pushes himself up and grips a little higher before pulling again. The jutting nail that the clippers had been balancing on gives out and falls off. Jason topples down as well, and he screams when his already shattered elbow hits the ground but he ignores the smarting body part and focusing on the tool in front of him.  _

_ He lays his hands on the ground, with the blade of the clipper in between the chains that keep the two cuffs together and uses his legs to bring down the handles. It takes a few tries, but the metal finally gives way and Jason’s hands snap apart and he grins triumphantly. Now all he had to do was get out and scream until someone found him. Hopefully. _

_ Laying on his stomach, which was arguably less injured than his back, he uses his arms to crawl forwards, inch by inch. He can feel his blood smearing underneath him, but he tries not to think about it. Ten more feet. _

_ A loud wail and a dull pinging brings his attention to the woman who had been glaring at him earlier. He almost doesn’t look at her, but he does and what he saw made his heart sink; There was a bomb counting down steadily from 30 seconds nestled under the chair she was tied to.  _

_ His breath catches in his throat, and he looks back at the door. Even if he didn’t have to spend time picking the lock, he’d never get there in time.  _

_ 28 seconds. _

_ He looks up at the woman’s grieved face and he feels his heart twinge. He doesn’t know why but he changes his course for the woman. Her eyes widen when she sees him crawling towards her and she shakes her head, thick tears streaming down her face. Jason ignores her and reaches out for her, unsure if he didn’t her to die alone or if he didn’t want to die alone. Probably the latter; he was selfish like that. _

_ 15 seconds. _

_ He was going to die here, he realizes with a bit of hysteria, as his slick fingers wrap around her own. They meet each other’s eyes, not speaking but communicating something that Jason would never be able to translate into words. _

_ 5 seconds. _

_ He’d never get the chance to. _

_ 3 seconds. _

_ The woman’s eyes squeeze shut but Jason’s are wide open, taking in the world around him. The thick wooden walls, the deep crimson shade of his blood, the white of the woman’s shirt, the dark blue shade of the sky, the moon twinkling light through the small window in the room. How the air smelled like copper and antiseptic. How the beeping of the timer increased, and how the woman’s breath decreased as she held her breath. _

_ 1 second. _

_ How his own skin, ripped and shredded, seemed to glimmer underneath the moonlight, contrasting with the deep red of the blood. How his heart hammered in his chest, and his breathing stuttered as his lungs finally began to fail him, and a numb tingling spread throughout his body, leaving him heavy. How he wished he could see the stars one more time.  _

_ He doesn’t close his eyes, just focuses on the moon. _

_ The beeping stops and for one terrible second, the world is quiet. Then everything goes up in flames and all Jason can sense is a thick swirling blackness enveloping his senses. _

_ ~ _

_ Everything was green. His eyelids flutter open and he sees that he’s underwater. The light green water wraps around him and he shudders as it caresses his skin. It burns, but it’s not too unpleasant, at least compared to what he had gone through before. _

_ He wonders if this is what being dead is like, but then his lungs start to burn and his heart starts to pulse uncomfortably, and forces himself up from the bottom of the water, before bursting through the surface, gasping wildly for air. _   
  


_ When he finally comes to his senses, he’s surrounded by people with their weapons drawn, pointing directly at him. _

_ A blind panic takes over him and suddenly his vision tunnels and he decides he’s never going to let anyone aim a weapon at him again. His fingers tense and his eyes burn and suddenly everyone around him drops to the ground like they’re paralyzed. Maybe they are. Jason doesn’t wait around to find out. He throws himself over the edge of the bed and takes off, keeping the same pressure in his fingers as he tears through the tunnels.  _

_ He doesn’t stop until he stumbles in front of a small boy with dark hair and green eyes looking up at him with an imploring expression. Before he can say anything, the boy’s eyes flash neon red and he touches Jason’s leg. Pain spreads throughout his body and he loses consciousness before he hits the floor. _

_ The last thing he hears is the small boy’s voice telling him “Your eyes glow like mine.” _

_ Next time he wakes up, he doesn’t run. _

 

_ ~ _

 

June 27th, 2019

Gotham City; Batcave

11:41 A.M.

  
  


“Stop ignoring me, I know you know I’m here.” Nightwings drawl rings through the room and he takes instant pleasure in seeing Wally tense ever so slightly before purposely looking in the opposite direction.

A grin tugs at Nightwing’s lips and he saunters over to stand directly in Wally’s line of vision. The boy’s face flushes a lovely color of red, not too different from his hair color, and fixes Nightwing with a withering glare, emerald eyes flashing with anger but he doesn’t say anything.

Nightwing’s grin wilts into a pout and he sits down crisscrossed on the floor. “You never talk to me,” he whines, throwing his head back. “It’s not fun when you ignore me.”

He watches Wally start to open his mouth to retort, then slam his mouth shut and look away. He lets out a soft huff of frustration, glaring at the red-haired boy in the cage. Wally had adopted a “no talking” policy and it was irritating Nightwing more than he cared to admit. There wasn’t any fun when there wasn’t any interaction, and his glares were starting to get old.

He was so bored he had tried to convince Batman to make Wally like him earlier with his meta abilities, just for funsies, but Batman had leveled him with an admonishing expression and told him that he didn’t have permanent control over emotions and that it would be a waste of time and effort.

Nightwing  _ knew  _ that he just thought it’d be funny to see react to himself after Batman’s abilities wore off and he remembered what he had thought and done. Psychological manipulation was extremely amusing, but apparently no one could be bothered to help him. He chews at his lip thoughtfully. Maybe he could get Red Robin to- He stops midthought and rolls his eyes behind his mask. No point wondering about  _ that,  _ Red Robin wouldn’t be awake until at  _ least  _ 1 P.M. 

How boring. He’s beginning to regret volunteering to take the first watch, Wally was obviously not a morning person and he’s obviously pissed. Nightwing should have waited until later to watch him, then maybe he’d get more of a reaction from him. He’d curse his own impatience to interact with Wally, but he doesn’t bother, knowing fully well that even if it wasn’t his turn to watch him he’d be down here anyway.

He hears Oracle and Red Hood begin to make their way down and he flips on the TV and busies himself with whatever was on, pretending that he hadn’t just been very openly pouting at their captive. 

It was the reporter from before, and she was talking about the Flash. Nightwing sees Wally perk up ever so slightly at the mention of his uncle and he turns it up to make sure that Wally can hear it.

“A few hours before the Flash was apprehended, he had taken the Joker back to Arkham Asylum. However, when the guards went back to check on the Joker, they found him barely alive in his room.” Vikki Vale told her viewers solemnly, eyes haunted as she continues. “Surveillance shows no evidence of anyone else being there so it is assumed that the Flash used his speed to enter the asylum undetected and severely injure the Joker.”

Oracle and Red Hood near the TV and Red Hood grins at Oracle. “So _ that’s  _ why you beat up old M’sta J without me. Respect.” He bumps her fist as she laughs and informs him that unlike some people, she does everything for a reason.

Wally looks like steam is about to start hissing out of his ears at any moment, face a deep shade of red. If Oracle or Red Hood notice, they don’t pay him any attention, instead sitting next to Nightwing and looking up at the TV, listening to the reporter as she continues to recount what happened. 

“The Flash was being held at Blackgate Prison but disappeared in the early hours of the morning. His current whereabouts are unknown, so please proceed with caution as you go about your day.” She warns and whatever else she says falls on deaf ears as the three siblings exchange amused expressions. They knew exactly where the Flash was stashed, but that was for them to know and for nobody to find out.

Nightwing spins around and regards Wally’s terrified expression cooly. “Worried about your uncle?”

The redhead’s expression is a mixture of pure panic and disbelief, and Nightwing watches with barely veiled contempt at Wally’s complete lack of emotional control. That was  _ such  _ a liability. 

“He-I. He’s not my- I don’t know who he is.” Wally finishes weakly and Red Hood snorts as he stands up and offers a hand to Oracle, hauling her off the cold floor.

“Okay, man. Sure.” 

Wally’s face starts to heat up and he opens his mouth to retort, only to slump against his restraints and shut his mouth. His head rolls back and he looks up at the ceiling, unblinking and Nightwing lets out a soft sigh as his eyes trace over the curve of Wally’s throat, taking it all in hungrily. 

Wally’s eyes shift to the side and when he sees Nightwing staring at him, swallows hard. Nightwing watches the bob of his throat with a level expression, never taking his eyes off of him and Wally snaps his head to the other side, avoiding his gaze.

Nightwing shrugs. They had time.

 

-

 

July 24th, 2019

Gotham City; Batcave

8:03 P.M.

Dick thinks of the empty cell forlornly, head tilted to the side. “ _ Why  _ did we have to let him go again?” He asks himself, knowing full well what the answer was. Wally’s release was disguised in such a way that Wally believed that he himself had escaped with his own abilities. 

Of course, that wasn’t true, there was an ‘accidental’ turning off of his inhibition collar, someone not locking the cage properly, and a drug taken beforehand (as well as Bab’s hallucination) that would ensure he couldn’t return to the Batcave unless someone took him there. By now he’d be halfway to the Hall of Justice and there was nothing Dick could do but wait until later to get him back. Hopefully.

He pushes off the desk he had been leaning on fluidly and makes his way over to where Cass was stretching. He sits down in front of her and slips into a straddle of his own and leans over to his left side, mirroring her. 

They continue to stretch in silence, moving over to the right side and then the middle. Then they switch to splits and butterflies and everything in between. When they finish stretching, they walk over to a small chest in the studio and open it up and pull out matching ballet shoes and slip them on and begin going through the five positions before going through plies, releves, and sautes.

They move silently, not even having to look at each other to know what the other is doing. They’ve been practicing ballet together each morning for years and they’ve developed a comfortable routine. 

Dick thinks back to when Cass had tried to teach Steph and a laugh bubbles out of his chest as he moves to pointe and Cass looks at him, eyebrow raised.

_ Remember when we tried to teach Steph ballet?  _ He signs and she throws her head back as she laughs silently, shoulders shaking with mirth. 

It had been an utter disaster, Stephanie can move so fluidly when she’s fighting but as soon as she tries to dance, she’s as stiff as a board. She had attended a grand total of three of their morning practices before promptly informing them that it was too early for her and that she’d rather be sleeping at eight in the fucking morning. And then she had promptly fallen asleep in the middle of the floor.

Dick shakes his head slightly, thinking back at the memory, only to pause when he sees Cass looking at him knowingly. He cocks his head at her.  _ What? _

_ You’re upset about something. _ She informs him and Dick knows better than try to lie to her.

_ A little.  _ He agrees, and she knows better than to pry. Instead, she corrects his form and they continue on practicing until Damian pads softly into the room and grabs at Dick’s arm, tugging it.

“Yeah, Dami?” He asks him, distracted.

“We need to discuss our strategy.” His littlest brother informs him promptly and he points at his wristwatch. “It’s 9:30, so I’m technically not interrupting your ballet session. It’s supposed to be done by 9:00.”

Dick laughs. “It’s not scheduled, Dami.”

“Yes, but it’s always like that.” His brother insists, crossing his arms over his chest, covering the cow that was on his shirt. “This is  _ important,”  _ he stresses the word important and Dick nods and tells him to let him cool down and put away his stuff before they discuss strategy. They technically needed Jason for it too, but Damian was insistent, and Dick’s too tired to argue right now. 

In the past few weeks both Plastic Man and The Atom have ‘mysteriously’ gone missing after going on yet another crazy rampage through the city and both Gotham and the Justice League have banned heroes from entering the city, for fear that even more supers would go insane.  Because of that, the city's morale was at an all time low, which was a perfect time for the Waynes to go out of their way to help at a local soup kitchen. And if there happens to be an unfortunate kidnapping that summons a certain hero to the rescue, well that would definitely be a fun surprise. 

-

July 24th, 2019

Washington DC; Hall of Justice

11:23 A.M.

Wally stumbles to a stop once he’s safely inside the building, bending over with his hands on his knees as he wheezes, struggling for breath. He’s shaking all over and he knows he’s going to collapse soon; he’d run too far too fast without enough calories. The only thing that had kept him going was the urge to get away from those glowing blue eyes and jet black hair. And yet...He frowns to himself, trying to understand the cold feeling in his chest. If felt like someone had just ripped out his heart from his chest and thrown it in the garbage. 

He looks up and sees Uncle Barry’s statue and he decides that’s why. It doesn’t fit exactly right, kind of like a puzzle piece that looks like it will fit but refuses to meld with the ones around it, but Wally can’t be bothered with worrying about that right now. He was  _ free. _

The first thing he was gonna do was find some civies and buy three large pizzas and eat them all in one go. He pauses almost sheepishly. Actually, he should probably let some people know he was alive first. He moves to walk to the zeta tube when he hears a disbelieving  _ Wally?  _ And spins around to see Roy staring at him, relief evident in his expression.

“Roy!” He explains and zips into his friend’s arms, not caring about what Roy would say. He was so touch starved that he thought he might actually die if he didn’t have physical contact soon. A memory of the boy with blue eyes running his fingers down his throat wiggles into his brain and he tunes it out so fast that even Uncle Barry would have a hard time keeping up.

He stumbles, lack of nutrition making him dizzy and Roy grips his shoulders, trying to steady him. He stares Wally in the eyes and asks him if he’s okay and what happened to him, but when Wally opens his mouth to respond, he can’t bring himself to talk bad about the blue eyed boy.  _ Nightwing.  _ He opens his mouth again, but the words refuse to come out. He frowns lightly to himself, before shrugging and telling Roy he couldn’t remember what happened.

Roy eyes him carefully, before taking him to the lounge and making him food.  

  
  


They sit together for a few hours after that, laughing and making jokes and ignoring the obvious elephant in the room.

Wally isn’t himself. Sure he can still eat anyone and their mother under the table and he still laughs when people make jokes but he’s distracted. He’s jittery and he doesn’t feel comfortable here. He misses  _ something  _ but he doesn’t know what. Maybe he needs to get laid or something? 

He throws his head back against the cushion and stares at the ceiling, deliberately ignoring Roy’s gaze. He moves his neck, trying to smooth out a crick in it when he suddenly remembers sharp eyes and cool touches and he snaps his head back up and curls his legs into him.

Roy is out of his seat in seconds, hovering over Wally like the mother hen he is (though he denies it), but Wally just laughs it off with a grin.

“Just remembered I never turned off the dishwasher at my apartment before I went out on patrol that one time. I’m terrified to see what’s happened to it.” He tells him, ignoring the fact it had been Uncle Barry who had warned him not to turn it on before they left, that he should do it when they get back home. Uncle Barry never got a chance to go back home. Wally worries his bottom lip between his teeth, before flipping on the TV and flipping through the channels.

Absently, he thinks about the boy he had run into in Gotham, Dick. He had been nice, a lot nicer than Nightwing, anyways. He had offered to take him to dinner, though Wally doubts he would now. He’s been gone for over four weeks, Dick Grayson probably gave up on looking for him. 

He almost flips through the Gotham channel when a sudden shock of black hair grabs his attention and he freezes, looking eagerly for blue eyes. It was then that he realizes that he had been looking for pure, glowing blue eyes, not natural blue and he feels a jolt of worry travel up his spine. That couldn’t be good. He shouldn’t be seeking out his captor; that was unhealthy as fuck. He shakes his head. It was probably because he’d gotten used to seeing him so often. It would go away on its own.

Satisfied, he turns up the volume and watches as part of the Wayne family (Dick, Barbara, Stephanie, and Bruce, not that he had looked them up or anything after meeting them) were helping out at a soup kitchen. 

Jason cocks an eyebrow at Wally’s interest but doesn’t say anything other than the occasional comment about whatever was happening at the moment. 

The soup kitchen is going smoothly and dinner is being served to the people in a quick, efficient manner before suddenly there’s a loud crash and smoke envelops everything. Wally and Roy are on their feet in seconds, and when the smoke clears Nightwing is standing in front of the camera, holding Dick against his chest with his katana pressed against the boy’s neck. He grins brightly at the camera and opens his mouth to speak, but Wally doesn’t hear what he says because he’s already taken off in Gotham’s direction.

 

-

 

July 24th, 2019

Gotham City

8:58 PM

 

Nightwing grabs Jason (who’s disguised as Dick with a magic charm that they had managed to snag from Felix Faust a few years back) and presses his katana to his neck, and then points at the police officers that have started to draw their weapons.

“You even move another inch and I’ll slice his head off.” He threatens coolly and Jason lets out a surprisingly believable whimper as he claws weakly at Nightwing’s forearm. The officers seem to hesitate but Nightwing pushes the blade closer, enough to make Jason gasp loudly and they drop their weapons to their sides, tense, but willing to cooperate.

“Perfect.” he chirps loudly, mentally counting down.

_ Three. _

 

_ Two. _

 

_ One. _

There’s a blur of yellow and suddenly Jason is ripped from his grasp and is on the other side of the room in Kid Flash’s arms. Nightwing ignores the adrenaline rush he gets from seeing him and instead scowls. 

“That’s not fair.” He tells him, but Kid Flash doesn’t respond. Instead, he gently asks if Jason (who he thinks is Dick) is okay, and Jason does an absolutely marvelous job at being the perfect amount of stunned and grateful.

Nightwing feels his lips twitch upwards, Robin’s insistence on practicing beforehand wasn’t for nothing. 

Then Jason places his hands onto Kid Flash’s chest, glancing ever so slightly at Nightwing and Nightwing  _ knows  _ he did it to piss him off. Not that it matters, he has to get pissed off anyways, otherwise, the plan wouldn’t work.

Scowling, he takes control of everybody’s body in the room except Kid Flash’s and forces them all to topple to the ground. Just as he’s about to snap their necks, something flies by him and he feels himself get grabbed and carried away from the soup kitchen. This time, Nightwing doesn’t ignore the sharp thrill that runs down his spine as Kid Flash grips him tightly against himself as he forcibly moves him away from the civilians. It was almost a good plan.

Too bad that he had thought of it first. He smothers his smile into Kid Flash’s shoulder and instantly twists out of his grip when the hero skids to a stop in an abandoned parking lot.

_ Stupid.  _ Nightwing thinks to himself. He thought the hero would have learned something from their last encounter. He thought that he’d bring back up for sure, but apparently stupidity knew no bounds. He shrugs to himself. It doesn’t matter, he’s going to get what he wants either way.

His eyes glow a little bit brighter, and to his absolute glee, Kid Flash skirts out of his range, keeping just far enough away so Nightwing can’t pull him under. 

_ Finally, something fun.  _

He moves forwards towards Kid Flash, who kept moving back, staying out of his 45 foot rang. Nightwing can see the hero’s grin even from his position and he can hear his taunting even better.

“Bet you didn’t think I’d figure it out, did you?” Kid Flash crows, eyes gleaming. “I’ve been watching you. I learned your limits. I know you  _ all  _ have limits. And just wait until I tell the Justice League. Then we’ll take you _ all  _ down.”

Nightwing hums to himself. “Oh? So you mean you haven’t told them yet?” He asks innocently. “Just why would you hold such important information from them? Shouldn’t you have told them that the first moment you saw them?”

He can see the hero’s expression falter and he grins triumphantly. He had already won, at least psychologically. Now all he had to do was get a hold of Kid Flash and drag him back home. Except that Kid Flash’s knowledge of his range were a little too good and he was a little too fast and Nightwing was starting to lose patience. This was getting boring and he wanted to go home. He hears sirens behind him and grins as the officers scramble out of their cars and aim their weapons at him.  _ Finally. _

He grabs all of their bodies and drags them forwards until he can almost touch them. Their terrified screaming is loud, but he doesn’t pay it too much attention. He had someone else’s attention to get, so these fools would have to do.

Gripping his katana, he begins to slice through their necks one by one, not even batting an eye as they sag but stay upwards because of his hold on their bodies. Their screaming gets louder and he turns and sees Kid Flash’s horrified expression as he watches the thick blood ooze to the ground in bucketfuls. 

He meets his gaze with a sunny smile. “I will kill _ all  _ of them unless you come over here. Now.” 

Unsurprisingly, Kid Flash is close to him in seconds, and before he can try anything Robin is suddenly at his side and pressing his own hands against the older man. The hero lets out a hoarse cry before he crumples and drops to the ground, and Nightwing twists his wrist, snapping the rest of the officers’ necks before dropping his hold and watching emotionlessly as they slam dead into the pavement. Then he crouches down and att aches another inhibitor collar to the unconscious man’s neck and dragging him back to the Batcave, grinning sharply all the while.

Nightwing tells Robin to go take a shower and settles inside the cage with Kid Flash, waiting patiently for him to wake up. It doesn’t take long and soon Kid Flash’s eyes are fluttering open and he’s jerking against his restraints once more. Nightwing is hit with a sense of deja vu and he grins up at the hero from the floor he was sitting on.

“Hey Wally, long time no see,” He purrs, raking his eyes over the other’s body.

“Don’t use my name when I have a mask on.” Wally hisses out, mouth drawing into a snarl. Nightwing isn’t disgruntled.

“So what you’re saying is that if I take off your mask, I can call you Wally?” He asks him, tilting his head to the right.

“What? No!” Wally snaps, narrowing his eyes at him, but Nightwing is already scrambling up and moving in closer until their noses are only a few inches apart. Then he promptly sits down in Wally’s lap, an almost painful echo of last time, and slips his fingers under Wally’s mask and begins to pull it away. 

Wally struggles less this time, but it probably has something to do with the fact that he knows that Nightwing already knows who he is. He still doesn’t look happy about it and when the mask fully slides off, he’s glaring heatedly at Nightwing. 

“Don’t give me that look.” Nightwing coos, shifting closer to Wally. “I just want to see,” he puts his mouth next to Wally’s ear, letting his lips brush against the skin there “If you get as flustered with me as you do with that  _ whore.”  _ Wally shudders under him, but still manages to mutter something along the lines of ‘Dick Grayson isn’t a whore’ but Nightwing tunes it out. Instead, he sits up and grins brightly at Wally. “Turns out, you get  _ way _ more flustered when it’s me.” He leers, and Wally’s skin tints pink.

He shifts up further until his crotch is only a few inches away from Wally’s but he freezes and looks at Wally with soft eyes. Well, as soft as they can get when they’re glowing blue.

“I know what I want, but I won’t take anything until you want it.” He tells him solemnly, watching Wally’s expression sharply.

Wally’s pupils are blown out and his breath is coming out in short, shaky puffs of air and his groin is a  _ lot  _ more interested than Nightwing’s own is showing (years of practicing self control), but he just looks down stubbornly and refuses to look at Nightwing.

Nightwing would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit disappointed, but he had expected as much. Instead, he trails his bare fingers down Wally’s face, feeling the skin warm under his fingertips before he nods and walks out, locking the door and walking out, not looking back once.

  
  


“I can’t believe I had to spend the whole day looking like you,” Jason complains, ripping off the charm and letting his own features glimmer back into view. “Disgusting.”

“Don’t be such a bitch just cuz you’re jealous of my good looks.” Dick fires back from where he was painting Steph’s nails purple. She had painted his a light blue about twenty minutes ago, and now he was helping her with hers.

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night.” Jason snorts as he runs his fingers through his hair, before going through Steph’s bag of nail polish and pulling out a red one. “Can I steal this for an hour?”

Steph’s eyes narrow as she looks at him. “That depends, what for?”

“Nothing that will harm you in any way.” He promises and Steph accepts the answer with a shrug.

“Help yourself, just don’t use all of it.” Jason grins brightly at her and Dick’s more than a little concerned for what was to come. He hopes Alfred figures it out and puts a stop to it before it happens. Maybe he’d even accidentally let it slip around Alfred just to make sure.

For now, though, he just continues painting Stephanie’s nails and talking quietly with his two siblings.

“What about the others?” Jason’s question makes him pause for a second, and it messes up Stephanie’s nail polish. He hisses and uses a wet cloth to dab it away before looking up quietly towards the ceiling.

“Not yet, not for a long while. But when it happens, there’ll be nothing left but their ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do i Like the writing in this chapter?no. am i gonna edit it?also no. ripp.  
> anyways thanks for reading lol


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha this is v late but in my defense...school is v hard.  
> this isnt edited. sorry :(

_ Chapter Five _

 

_ March 3rd, 2004 _

_ China; Hong Kong _

_ 1:02 A.M. _

 

_ Drip. _

_ Drip. _

_.. _

_. _

_. _

_. _

_ Drip.. _

 

_ The water slid down the cracked pipes with a slow tempo, hitting the ground at exactly every two and a half seconds. The blood running down the man’s face was much slower, hitting the ground every 5.7 seconds. The thick red liquid oozed out of his parted lips and dribbled down his chin, and from there it slowly fell down to the floor below him. _

 

_ Her eyebrows furrowed as she watches him, confusion written all over her face. His body wasn’t responding normally. Why wasn’t he responding properly? Where was the rise and fall of his chest? Where was the twitch of his eye behind his eyelids? Why were his muscles so lax? She only did what He told her to do, but now she didn’t know what she had done. _

 

_ She looks up at the Man standing above her with a smug, twisted smile and then back to her hands. Her small, red coated hands, and back to the man laying on the floor far too still for a living being.  _

 

_ Reaching out, her trembling fingers brush over his lips, and when she doesn’t feel the hot puffs of air on her fingers, she  _ understands.  _ Hot tears threatened to spill out of her eyes but something even hotter burns in her chest, boiling over and spreading through her chest and down her arms and legs. Her eyes blur for a moment, and when she reopens them, the world is silver and He is staring at her with a mixture of surprise, tinged with something else that she had never seen on Him before. _

 

_ Fear, _

 

_ She knows what that looks like on a human’s body very well, that’s what she was taught to know, after all. Her eyes shift from the lifeless form on the floor and then back up to Him and she remembers what else she was taught to do; kill. _

 

_ She pushes herself off the floor, eyes trained on Him, pulling her sword out of the man below her, as she makes her way towards Him.  _

_ He opens His mouth to do something but nothing comes out, silence, just like the man on the ground. He seems to realize what’s happening, He’s the one that taught her to mute a victim before attacking them after all. His mouth sets into a tight line and He shifts into a fighting stance, but she already knows what He’s doing, she always does. And this would be the last time, because after this He would be just like the man below her, because He forced her into doing something she didn’t understand, so now He’ll have to deal with the consequences. _

 

_ That is what He always told her, and she had the scars to prove it.  _

 

_ ~ _

 

August 8, 2019

Gotham; Gotham National Bank

1:03 A.M.

 

_ “You know, we don’t really need this money, you don’t have to be stuffing your pockets with the stuff.”  _ Red Robin’s voice echoes through the mindlink, and Spoiler pauses while hacking into one of the vaults that had a plaque that read  _ Bruce Wayne _ in an elegant font and rolls her eyes at him from behind her mask. She knows he can’t see her, but she also knows that he’ll be able to tell though the mind link, so she doesn’t mourn the extra bit of effort she put into the action.

 

_ “One, mind your own fucking business, Two, we’re playing the part. What type of burglars don’t go absolutely apeshit when they finally get their hands on the money?” _

 

_ “Smart ones?”  _ Red Robin offers dryly and she pulls out a wad of cash from her utility belt and hurls it at his head, which he unfortunately dodges. 

 

_ “Stop moving, damnit!” _

 

_ “It’s not my fault I know what you’re gonna do before you do it, you’re just bad at shielding your mind.”  _ His smug voice laughs in her mind and she can hear Nightwing struggling not to laugh through the link and flips him off. He grins brightly at her and puts up both hands in a heart shape before going back to carefully putting the thick bars of gold in a thick black brandless duffle bag and she goes back to working at Mr. Wayne’s vault. 

 

Four….three...seven…..twelve...one...fourteen….back to the left...and then to the right again. She huffs quietly to herself, silently cursing Bruce for making his code so difficult to crack. She knows it would be unrealistic for a billionaire to have ‘password’ as their password, but one could hope. Also, Burce  _ could  _ have just told her his code but noo, he just laughed and said it’d be a good training exercise.  _ “If we get caught/arrested, I know who I’m blaming.”  _ She grumbles and from beside her Orphan taps her arm twice.

 

Two more minutes.

 

_ “Yeah yeah, I’m on it.”  _ She spins the lock once more to the right, and it opens with a soft click.  _ “See you don’t need to worry, I’m a pro.”  _ She glances over at Orphan and knows she’s laughing at her and Spoiler resists the urge to stick her tongue out at her. Professional Criminals did not stick their tongues out at their colleagues. Mainly because there was always a chance your saliva could drip off your tongue and onto the floor where Forensics would find it, take it in, analyze it, and either figure out who you are or how your ability works, or even both. The moral of the story is to keep your tongue in your mouth at all costs no matter what, which was easy enough until you remember that your  _ siblings  _ are your colleagues and then it gets significantly more difficult. 

 

_ “Police will probably be arriving soon, so hurry up,”  _ Nightwing warns and Orphan quickly darts inside and begins pulling out all sorts of valuables from the vault. Spoiler follows after her and Red Robin and Nightwing keep watch outside. 

 

They make quick work of the valuables and exit as quickly as they enter, making sure that they close the vault behind them and put everything back in its place. 

 

_ “Police dispatch should be here in four minutes.”  _ Red Robin reports and they quickly move to exit when suddenly both he and Nightwing spin around, and Orphan seems to pick up on something as well because her eyes glow bright silver, effectively muting all four of them. It was important to never make more noise than necessary, and if she was muting them that meant something would happen that would probably make them use their voices, which was never ideal.

 

They all tense and hear a gunshot ring out and the sound of shattering glass just as Nightwings eyes widen and he reaches out towards them, fingers curling halfway as he forces their bodies to move out of the path of the gunshot. He manages to move them enough to avoid any vital spots but didn’t react quickly enough to move them out of the way entirely and Spoiler feels the bullet blowing through her calf and opens her mouth to scream, though nothing comes out, thanks to Orphan. She crumples to the ground and so does Orphan, clutching at her thigh and Red Robin rushes towards them just as Nightwing reaches out for the lone policeman that was standing right outside the now shattered window. 

 

His eyes darken in color as he reaches out, but before he can, the man drops to the ground stiffly, and behind him is a dark skinned man with a yellow hoodie that’s obscuring most of his face from view. He looks back at Nightwing for a moment, before melting into the darkness, out of sight. 

 

Nightwing springs out of the window, landing in a slight crouch, before straightening out and walking gingerly on the broken glass as he approaches the unconscious man and pulls out his katana as he looks down emotionlessly at the man. 

 

_ “Red Robin, bandage their wounds and clean up the blood and all other evidence, and help them out of here. I’ll take care of him, and anyone else who tries to follow.”  _ He instructs, voice hard and angry as he lifts up his arm and brings it down in an arc onto the man’s head. He lifts the blade back up to his face before flicking the blood off of it with disinterest. 

 

Red Robin nods and pulls out two bandages out of his utility belt and hands them to Oracle and Spoiler before beginning to clean the blood and anything else that could be linked to them. Once they are all finished, he helps them up and they take off, albeit at a pace far slower than they would have liked.

 

They hear yelling and gunshots behind them but don’t bother looking back; not much could touch Nightwing when he got like this, he’d be fine.

 

-

 

Wayne Manor; 5:57 A.M.

 

“Honestly,” Alfred mutters as he finishes cleaning and stitching up Stephanie and Cassandra’s wounds, “All these bloody powers and none of you developed the ability to heal oneself or others. Ridiculous." He drops the bloody bullet into a metal plate and moves to clean his instruments. “Any more roughhousing and I’ll have to resort to sending for Dr. Thompson, and you know as well as I that she is the last person who you’d want to be angry with you; she doesn’t like it when you risk your safety like this.” He scolds and both girls look down guiltily and Timothy tries to sneak out of the infirmary without being noticed but Alfred is having none of it today.

 

“And where are you going, Timothy?” The boy froze mid-step and turns around slowly on his heel.

 

“Uh? To get ice?” He offers and Alfred raises an eyebrow at him, unimpressed with his explanation and the boy deflates and drags himself over to an empty stool and lets Alfred check his blood pressure and heart rate, as well as look him over for injuries.

 

“You have got to be more careful.” He admonishes and Timothy laughs outright and pushes his bangs out of his eyes, only for them to fall back once more. Stephanie pulls out two glittery pink hairclips out of her pocket and offers them to Timothy, who takes them with a straight face and pins his hair back onto his scalp.

 

Alfred opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly the door slams against the wall as Dick storms in, eyes wild, and runs to his younger sisters.

 

“Are you guys okay?” He asks, looking absolutely frazzled as he reaches over for them and pulls them into a tight hug. Cassandra hugs him back while Stephanie complains loudly and tries to push him off of her, to no avail. 

 

“You’re such a mother hen, Dick. It’s annoying.”

 

“You’re annoying.”

 

“Me? What the f..frick.” She eyes Alfred from the corner of her eye and he gives her a stern glance before glancing at his wristwatch. The hands on the watch show 6:15 and he quickly stands up and smoothes out his shirt before turning to his grandchildren.

 

“It is breakfast time, Jason and Damian volunteered to make it for us since I had to help Cassandra and Stephanie with their injuries, so I suggest we don’t keep them waiting much longer.”

 

Dick lifts Cassandra up like a princess and Alfred watches them both fondly as they laugh at each other, only to end up screaming “Be careful!” when Dick bolts out of the room with Cassandra still in his arms, hollering something about beating Timothy and Stephanie. Stephanie immediately demands that Timothy carry her up too, and when he tries to escape the room without her, she launches herself onto his back and wraps her arms around his neck and threatens to choke him until he passes out unless he carries her, and he looks like he’s considering falling backward and crushing her, but then he looks at Alfred and lets out a deep sigh and carries her out of the room.

  
  
  


"No, Timbo you're not eating goldfish with ranch dressing while we have a four course meal right in front of us." Jason grabs the bag of goldfish he has in his hands and tosses it back into the pantry and drags him back to the table where everyone was already seated and waiting for the two of them to return from the kitchen.

 

“I wasn’t gonna eat it with ranch.” Tim sulks, pulling out his chair and plopping into it and Jason scoffs loudly.

 

“My bad, BBQ.”

 

Tim throws his fork at him, which Jason bats out of the air without even blinking. “I made you breakfast and this is how you thank me? Rude.”

 

“I want my goldfish.”

 

“Here,” Jason hands him a banana, “it’s gold.”

 

“It’s a  _ fruit. _ ” 

 

“An astute observation.” Jason hums, pushing Damian’s chair to the left so he could sit in his own chair.

 

“You could have just pulled it out, you lazy moron.” Damian snaps, but there’s not much fire behind his words as he spreads hummus on a piece of toast and reaches for the kalamata olive jar that’s just out of reach. Babs pushes it toward him without much interest as she asks Cass and Steph if they’re feeling okay.

 

“Damian, don’t call your brother a moron.” Bruce admonishes while he stirs his oatmeal, twice to the left and once to the right. 

 

“But you always tell me not to lie,” Damian tells him innocently and Bruce glances over to see if Alfred was looking and then throws a red grape at Damian’s nose, who promptly catches it in his mouth and shakes his head at his father’s behavior.

 

“I saw that, sir,” Alfred tells Bruce and he freezes mid-stir and looks up in alarm. “First I had to kick you out of the infirmary because you kept fretting over them like a mother hen and keeping me from doing my job and now you’re throwing food across the table? What are you teaching your children?”

 

“What not to do?” Bruce offers and Alfred sighs loudly and goes back to peeling his orange. Babs snorts loudly and takes a long sip out of her mango smoothie to try to muffle the noise but Bruce hears her and glares at her. “Betrayed by my oldest child? What is the world coming to?” 

 

“Nothing new.” Stephanie offers and Bruce goes back to his oatmeal, defeated. “Hey Dick, where are you going?”

 

They look at Dick, who was halfway out of the room with a platter of food, and pauses mid step and looks at them innocently. “I gotta feed Wally.”

 

“What is he, your dog?” Jason snorts, and Dick sticks his tongue out at him and keeps on walking. 

  
  


He makes a quick stop and puts on his suit before going down to where Wally was currently staying. “Good Morning!” He greets the red haired speedster cheerfully and slips the food through the small window and starts to leave when he notices that he hadn’t even looked at the food and turns back to him. “Your food’s here.” He reminds him and all he gets is a glare in return.

 

He puts his hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “That was rude, I didn’t have to bring you food, but I did. ‘Cuz I’m  _ nice. _ ”

 

“You could also let me go since you’re so nice.” The boy fires back and Nightwing grins toothily at him and enters the cell, locking it tightly behind him and leaning his face close to Wally’s.

 

“But you don’t  _ really  _ want to leave me, right?” He whines, tapping the other’s chin with his index finger. Wally looks away pointedly, but there’s a light dusting of pink covering his unmasked cheeks and Nightwing takes it as an invitation to keep going. He reaches over and grabs the platter of finger food- he was smarter than bringing utensils, thank you very much-and plops down onto Wally’s lap, ignoring the sharp yell that’s pulled out of the other and holds a grape up to his mouth. “Say ‘Ahh’.” He croons, rubbing the grape lightly onto Wally’s lips.

 

“Nightw-mgh!” When he opens his mouth to protest, Nightwing pops the grape into his mouth and laughs when he immediately shuts his mouth.

 

“Don’t forget to chew!” he reminds him, and Wally fixes him with a hard stare as he begins to chew slowly on the fruit and swallows, throat bobbing and then tightening. Nightwing holds two more to his mouth and he tightens his lips together and shakes his head.

 

“But you need to eat, you’ll get sick if you don’t,” Nightwing tells him with a frown, waving the fruit above his nose. “And then you’ll be stuck in here  _ and  _ sick, which is wayyy worse than just being stuck in here. You’re a speedster, you need to eat way more than you’ve been currently eating.” He drags out the syllables in ‘way’ and Wally’s canine protrudes out of his lips as he gnaws on his bottom lip, considering what Nightwing was saying. Nightwing picks up on this and perks up, holding the grapes over his mouth, and Wally’s mouth twists into a scowl before he parts his lips and lets Nightwing put the fruit in his mouth, before chewing and swallowing. 

 

Nightwing holds up a circular shaped cracker and he opens his mouth obediently, taking the food from in between Nightwing’s fingers, accidentally brushing his tongue against them. He tenses up, but when Nightwing doesn’t mention it, he wills himself to relax and swallows the cracker. The dark haired boy then holds up another cracker, this time with a thick slice of cheese on it, and when he opens his mouth, Nightwing’s fingers run over the edge of his tongue, but he immediately pulls away and mutters “sorry” so he doesn’t think too much about it.

 

He eats until the platter is empty and then Nightwing puts it down and pushes it out of reach and holds out a napkin for Wally to see. “Proper etiquette says you should always wipe your mouth after eating.” He tells him solemnly and begins to gently dab at his mouth. Wally doesn’t know how much of a mess grapes and crackers can make, but he doesn’t think it would take this long to clean, but he doesn’t tell him to stop. He’s probably just been alone for too long, he tells himself, as he stares up into Nightwing’s entirely blue eyes, bright and unblinking as they’re focused on [cleaning] Wally’s mouth. He feels his face getting a bit warm, but he pretends that he doesn’t notice it, and if Nightwing noticed, he doesn’t say anything either.

 

He finally sets down the napkin and moves to leave, but then pauses and shifts his gaze to Wally’s hair and sits back down and tilts his head to the side. “You have beautiful hair.” He tells him and lifts his hand up, reaching out towards his hair, but pauses as if he’s waiting for Wally to tell him ‘no’ but Wally can’t bring himself to say anything, even if he did want to say no. Nightwing’s hand snakes through his hair and without meaning to, Wally leans his head back, pressing into the touch. 

 

This Nightwing does pick up on quickly and adjusts his grip on Wally’s hair, tugging and petting it and Wally’s never wished for a mask more than he has at that moment. His cheeks, throat, shoulders, he can tell they’re all a bright red and he knows Nightwing knows that too. He shifts himself closer to Wally, too close, and Wally’s mouth parts open as he tries to keep his breathing under control. The hand running through his hair is becoming more and more rough as time goes on and Nightwing’s other hand falls from where it had been sitting on his shoulder and starts trailing a line down Wally’s chest and he can’t stop the small gasp that escapes his throat, and he doesn’t miss the glint in Nightwing’s eyes when he hears the noise. 

 

He leans in close until their noses are brushing and something in the back of Wally’s mind is telling him he could headbutt him right now and probably cause some damage to his pretty face, but he can’t bring himself to listen to it, can’t focus on it when Nightwing is so  _ close  _ and his own legs are beginning to fall to the sides, open. Nightwing’s gaze is so focused on him that for a second, Wally is sure that he’ll kiss him, but then a timer goes off and Nightwing pulls away almost reluctantly, with a faint trace of a smirk on his face and Wally  _ almost  _ arches his hips up to follow him before he remembers where he is and that he has his own list of standards to follow. Unfortunately for him, Nightwing seemed to pick up on that too. He gives him a lazy once over before turning out of the cage and walking out, but not before bending over and giving Wally a full view of his  _ very  _ nice butt as he picks up the empty platter and walks out, hollering “I’ll see you later, don’t go anywhere until then, okay?” In a smug voice and Wally scowls at him and forces himself to look away. 

 

-

 

Gotham; Mayor’s Office; 12:05 (Lunch Break)

 

_ “I just feel like going out in broad daylight is an amazing way to get caught, or shot at even.”  _ Red Robin complains as they walk through the dark, abandoned halls of the East Wing of the building.

 

_ “Better make sure we don’t get caught then.”  _ Nightwing hums in response and Red Robin gives him a deadpan look but doesn’t bother saying anything and starts picking the lock to room 409. The lock gives easily enough-he was way better at lockpicking than Spoiler, he doesn’t care what she says- and opens the door, letting Nightwing go in first and then slipping in behind him and shutting the door behind him.

 

Nightwing quickly opens the secret-passageway-that-most-definitely-did-not-exist-according-to-the-building's-blueprint and they go through and shut the opening behind them and drop to the ground below, crouching low as Red Robin scans the area for security and then take off in the direction of the unofficial records room. 

 

They spend a few minutes gathering what they need when suddenly the door is thrown open and a group of security guards pool in, guns up.

 

_ “Well, security  _ has  _ been going up since our attacks have gotten more frequent.”  _ Red Robin offers and Nightwing rolls his eyes at him and takes out his katana and Red Robin mirrors his action, taking out his own.

 

Something brushes against Red Robin’s mind and he whirls around to see a security guard creep up from behind Nightwing, gun aimed for his head and Red Robin’s blood runs cold.

 

_ “Night-” _ Before he can finish his warning, the man’s neck is suddenly snapped and Red Robin lets out a revived sigh, Nightwing had gotten to him in time. But then he picks up Nightwings distress through their link and he realizes that Nightwing hadn’t been the one to snap the man’s neck, someone else had. The man drops to the ground, revealing a man in a yellow hoodie, who was looking at both of them with an unimpressed expression. 

 

Nightwing frowns and reaches out and for a second Red Robin thinks he’s going to snap the person’s neck, before he snaps and all the security guards around them drop dead on the floor, leaving just them and the boy standing in front of them. Red Robin decides to let Nightwing handle the talking and starts working on scanning the man’s mind and calculating how much he’d have to erase or if he’d be a valuable ally.

 

_ “You’re that kid from the bank.”  _ If the kid was surprised by Nightwing’s voice in his head, he doesn’t show it, all he does is nod.

 

_ “Duke Thomas. And you’re Dick Grayson.” _

 

Both Nightwing and Red Robin pause momentarily before Nightwing shrugs casually.  _ "I'm legally not allowed to answer that but," _ he glances back at Red Robin, who nods to him, signaling that he read his mind and he's safe,  _ "if you need a place to crash, I'm sure you'd fit in great with our family, Duke Thomas."  _ and holds out his hand.

 

Duke Thomas takes it with a sharp grin and stares them both as his eyes slowly filter out into bright yellow.  _ “Call me Signal.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading uwu.  
> alSO. DUKE! FINALLY!!!!i told yall he'd come in eventually..!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading !!  
> comment if you'd like (👀👀)


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